The Road Less Traveled
by youngpatriot
Summary: The Sequel for To Be of Age. After the 100th Games, silence has become deadly. While the President attempts to steer Panem back towards complete submission, threads of dissent are woven. For the games, everything appears normal, but the tributes have a a script to follow. And the script writer is not yet known.
1. Chapter One

**_First Chapter-so exciting! you don't have to read the first story, but it helps. There is a blog, and the capitol people, mentors, and tributes all get posted there. All the really important people are included here. This is an overcap of the main events in several characters lives this past year after the Quarter Quell._**

 _About a week after the Fourth Quarter Quell_

Hadrian breathed a sigh of relief as he entered TV host Augustus Flickerman's studio office. With the games done, he was ready to return to his normal life. No more late show interviews, pre-game chats, and rushed game time commentaries. Flickerman could find a new co-host, Hadrian was ready to return to the boring kind of jobs he'd held before the last set of games.

Augustus gave him a cheery smile as Hadrian sat down, pouring him a cup of coffee, "I'm so glad you stepped in and helped out the last couple of weeks. You're an absolute gem, we couldn't have done it without you.'

Hadrian sipped on the coffee, "Yeah, thanks. But now you can find someone trained to help you out, now that life has settled down some."  
Flickerman's brow crinkled, "Someone trained? You're a pro at this Hadrian, I could never replace you now."

Running a hand through his thick hair, Hadrian felt his stomach contorting. How could he explain and get his legendary boss to agree with him? "It's been fun, but I'm just not up for it." He continued, not letting Augustus interrupt him, "I've never been one to give so much attention to the games, and thinking about them non-stop wears on my health."

"Oh, Hadrian, I can't lose you now. There's just too much at stake here."

Hadrian frowned, "Why can't you find another person to do my job?"  
Augustus pointed his finger at him, "Listen to me, I know a natural when I see one, and you're it. The Gamemakers love you, the crowds adore your style, and you develop a natural empathy with the tributes, something few Capitol natives can muster up. You're a once in a lifetime treasure."

"Augustus, I really hate doing this. It's nauseating to watch these kids butcher each other, and talking about makes it just eat me up. I just can't keep this up."

"No, you hear me. A host for the games must have some of those feelings. Otherwise, it's just a monotonous commentary. But when you're actually on the verge of tears watching that girl from three die,"  
"Her name was Pixelle," Hadrian butted in, frustrated with the direction of the conversation.  
"Exactly, you know her name. Heck, you teared up when the Career pack was ambushed, I mean few people here do that."

"And this is precisely why, I don't like this work. I can't sleep at night, when I finally get to even go to bed. I can't even eat, or read a decent book. I've never ever not wanted a job so badly before."

Augustus sighed, leaning forward. "I'm sorry kid, but I can't let your contract go. We need people like you here, it's just a touch of humanity for the games."

Hadrian moaned, burying his head in his hands, "My contract doesn't expire for four more years. I was hired to serve you coffee, sweep the floor. I signed that paper to pay off my college debts, not deliver commentaries on the games."

'I know when your contract expires. And I won't put up a fuss if you still want to quit four years from now. Until then, all I ask is that you give me all you've got."

Lifting his head, Hadrian rubbed at his reddened eyes, "I was just hoping you know, but if I can't quit I'll give the job my best." He stood up, now only wanting to go home and drown himself in a good book.

Flickerman let him go, trying to push aside the slightly guilty feeling nagging him. What he definitely needed right now was a lawyer to find some loophole to extend Hadrian's contract.

 ** _Nearly Three Months after the Fourth Quarter Quell ~ GameMaker headquarters_  
**

"The President has some small concerns about the victory tour, nothing too major, but he does want a good representative going this year." Lafayette Thrope, Head Gamemaker, was still concerned with keeping himself in Presidential favors. Which is exactly why he was hoping to send an underling on the victory tour. If any mistake was made, he wouldn't be present to take the blame.

The room full of Gamemakers met his announcement in unusual silence. Sure, there hadn't been any concern over the victory tour the last few years, yeah, more than a few years actually. "Look, people, I said it was nothing major, we just need a good balanced this year."

Still no response from the group, maybe he could get rid of that annoying griper who dyed his hair that irritating color of pink, "What about you Clément? Don't you want to tour the districts?"

"Tour the districts?" Clément's face wrinkled in disgust, "Why would I want to do that? Anyway, my wife's expecting a baby, I can't leave her to do your job."

Lafayette sighed, "Come on people, It's just twelve days."

"Look, I can go." Gemini sighed as she spoke, "I do everything else around here." She swiveled in her chair, "My schedule should be free."

"You don't have to go, Gemini. I mean, you have skills I need here. We still haven't ironed out all the wrinkles in the arena for next year."

She frowned, pulling at the end of her ponytail, "No, it will be good for me to get out of the control rooms. Seeing the districts will help give me ideas, you know a fresh look."

"If no else volunteers," He eyed the room, hoping someone else would bat an eye. Just his luck that no one would.

 _ **District Seven, the Victory Tour**_

Copper squeezed Radiance's hand, pulling her face very close to her own, "Honey, I have to tell you something very important about our visit here. You must pay attention, and not talk to anyone about this."

Radiance nodded, emulating Copper's whisper, "Ok, what is it?"  
"Things in this district have been rough," Coppers face seemed to pain at the very words. "It's really harsh here I am sure, and you need to be careful."

Careful. It seemed her mentor reminded her to be this way every single day. Practically every time they talked since she stepped out of the arena, she was prompted her to be careful. What were people so afraid of? Except for Odyssey, he was so self-assured. Copper could learn a thing or two from her cousin.

"Where are you girls?" Gemini stepped into the room, her voice even and cool. "I see you're all set for the cameras. Now we have an agenda here, Lafayette wants to make certain that you especially bring poise to this district."

A look seemed to pass between Copper and Gemini. So quickly that Radiance wondered if she imagined it. Before she could process what the two might possibly be thinking, the escort bounced in, her voice shrill and demanding; the complete opposite of the calm Mentor and even headed Gamemaker.

The crowds outside the train were stony faced. Radiance's stomach twisted as she fully realized this was Grel's district. Her ally, didn't he have some family member he was trying to save? Peacekeepers stood on each side of the train, and Radiance was surprised to see that their weapons were drawn.

The mayor escorted them to a vehicle, and the four of them, Copper, Gemini, Radiance, and the escort were driven to a platform. It was decorated as in many of the districts, Radiance was kind of tired of seeing her face everywhere. As they mounted the steps, Minnie, district Seven's female victor approached them, wrapping Copper in a warm embrace.

She laid a hand on Radiance's head, placing a finger on her chin, "Our district appreciates how your alliance worked with Grel." Her eyes darted towards the silent crowd, "Don't fret over how sullen they are, they actually do like you."

Radiance nodded, grateful for the other's support when she stood behind the mic. She had done this in five districts already, it should be normal. But this was the first time she had to address an ally's district. She fumbled with the card, while the mayor finished the formal introduction.

"I am grateful to be welcomed by the people of District Twelve. Without the support of Panem, I would never have been able to achieve victory." Her voice seemed to lodge in her throat, "My allies were instrumental in propelling my course."

Radiance swiped at her eyes, knowing the escort would screech at her for ruining her mascara, "I am thankful to your tribute Grel Gracy and his family and friends, without his teamwork, I could not be standing here today."

Radiance looked up in time to see a scrawny kid pushing his way through the crowd, they seemed to move to make way for the red head. "Follow the script," Gemini whispered, and Radiance began to read the fluff filled accolade to Leota.

The air seemed to whistle, the crowd yelling hoarsely, and Radiance felt herself tumbling. Peacekeepers marching, dense smoke, and high-pierced alarms sounded. Wood shrapnel flew around Radiance, and she curled into a tight ball, shielding herself from the ensuing chaos.

Strong arms lifted Radiance from the smoldering platform, and she clutched whoever they were tightly around the neck. Soothing words followed, and Radiance allowed herself to open her tight eyes. The square was filled with, was that bodies? Smoke still hung in the air, and the bright banners were trampled. The sight disappeared as Peacekeepers crowded in around her rescuer, leading her somewhere.

Someone was talking into something, telling someone rushed details of what had just happened. Radiance tried to process it, but all she could do was ask herself where Copper and Gemini were. And the escort. What about the mayor, all the people standing behind her?

Bouncing, apparently they were walking on stairs. Then she was laid in a chair, and Radiance realized they were in the train. It was kind of dark, the curtains were all closed. She looked up, staring into the face of a peacekeeper. "What's going on?" her voice was hardly above a whisper.

"I think you blacked out some." He bent down, his blue eyes intense, focused completely on her. "Just some ruffians, but they did a lot of damage. We're glad you're fine, no injuries is what the medic said. They didn't throw it at you."

Radiance took in a deep breath, her ribs pinching, stopping her short. "What?" the words came out in a rush, "What was thrown, where's Copper, and Gemini?"  
"It was a Molotov cocktail, a homemade bomb. Had a lot of punch to it. They were trying to get the mayor, some people here are holding some grudges."

"But what about?"  
He smiled, catching her hand, "The escort was standing next to the mayor, so she's the most hurt. Copper was right behind you, she had some burns, and broken ribs. Gemini was just shook up, I think her ribs might be cracked."

"The escort?"  
"Badly burnt. Broken bones, all that stuff."

Radiance sank into the chair, her mind reeling. "And the mayor?"  
His face darkened, "They got him, there's nothing we can do."

She stared at him, "You mean he's dead?

"Why, I mean, couldn't you do, or try, or given him something?"

He shook his head, "No, guess it was his time to go. Which is a little unfortunate for this district." He stared at his hands a few moments, "I'm assigned to escort you straight to the Capitol. We're leaving as soon as the company all boards."

"Will Copper and the rest be coming?"  
"I'm sorry, but they are being detained for treatment, except Gemini, I think she's well enough to come."

As he spoke some peacekeepers entered, leading in Gemini. She swept over to Radiance, giving her a tight hug. She paused to glance at the peacekeeper.  
"I assume you're the man in charge here?"  
"Yes ma'am, I've been assigned here."

She patted Radiance on the head, and Radiance simply clutched her other hand. Gemini just felt normal, safe.

"I'm Gemini Heavensbee. Are we to be sure this train is absolutely safe for the return to the Capitol?"

He nodded, "Absolutely, my men and women are doing all possible to ensure the safety of this vehicle."

"And your name?"

"Pardon me," he clicked his heels, "Lieutenant Dietrich Helst, ma'am."

"Thank, you Dietrich, If I may, I will take over Miss Osmium's care. Feel free to come visit with us later, I just think she needs some time."

"Of course," Helst gave a quick bow, scurrying off towards the front of the train.

Gemini sank into a chair next to Radiance, brushing her loose hair out of her eyes. "Copper is going to be fine. They're treating her burns, and I expect we'll get to see her in a few days."

Radiance nodded, "What was this all about?" A whistle blew, and the train began to move.

"You're talking about the square?"  
She nodded, continuing to clasp Gemini's hand.

She sighed, "People can become dissatisfied with the system, and they react, its normal human behavior. The Capitol should expect this kind of stuff more often."  
Radiance stared at her. "You're a Gamemaker? You sound more like, I don't know." Her voice trailed.

Gemini grinned, "I'm a Heavensbee, our family is entitled to our own opinions on life. Everyone knows we say what we think. But you need to rest, this afternoon's been quite a shocker."

Radiance easily fell asleep, and Gemini ordered some white wine. She had thrown away the pills the nurses had given her. She hated medicine, alcohol could calm you one down just as well. It was too bad the escort had been so badly hurt, they had definitely not been in the plan. Copper should have stepped away in time, but she'd been too concerned with Radiance's emotional state. Well, at least it didn't make her look involved.

She turned on the TV, making sure the volume was set fairly low. Thankfully, her contacts had debugged certain compartments on the train before it left the Capitol. She had gone to the President, claimed it might encourage the mentors to talk. And since he trusted her to report everything back to him, all was good.

She grinned as she held up her glass of wine, "A toast to you, Uncle Plutarch, for setting all this up."

* * *

 ** _Capitol, the evening of the Attack in District Seven_**

The plan had worked, Annora smiled as she listened to the newscaster prattle on. Footage of the mob in seven was fairly tame, showing district slaves throwing Molotov Cocktails was definitely not in Capitol taste. Of course the camera crew couldn't help the fact that they had been filming the tour, and the attack had aired live.

Annora shrugged off her high heels, grateful that the attack would get her an evening off. People here would be too worked up to request her company. She sank into a comfy sofa, as the anchor spoke of how well Radiance was. Everyone was in a frenzy, they could hardly think of anything other than worrying about Radiance's state of health.

The phone rang, and Annora sighed. It better not be some Capitolite. She didn't feel like speaking to any of them.  
"Hello?"

"Hey, am I allowed to talk to you tonight?"

Annora grinned, "Hey, Snider." District 12's sole male victor, and probably the only person who understood her. "I suppose I could allow myself to invest in your company."

"Really. Didn't know my company was such an investment."

His sarcasm always made her feel goofy, "Snider, shut up. My line is always open, especially for people like you. You've seen the news?"

"Who hasn't? Quite a show, definitely makes this victory tour memorable."

"For sure. But it leaves my evening free. I'm just going to sleep, I think."

"Too bad," Snider chuckled, "Wish I could be there, it's rare for you to have a free night, huh?"

Annora felt her cheeks redden, "Come on, Sni. If I have a free night, I'm not sharing it with you."

"Too bad. Anyway just called to check on you. Raquel's going to burst in here any minute. That upset in 7 is going to make her wild. I've got to hold the fort, ya know." Raquel, the victor they all had to keep in line.

"Sure," Annora toyed with her hair, loosening the high ponytail, "I just need to go get some sleep. See you soon, Snider."

"Yeah, you too Annora. Have fun."

"Thanks," She held the phone, listening as the dial tone buzzed. She wished she could chat with him every evening.

The news was playing footage of Radiance, emphasizing her face when the attack occurred. Apparently she didn't see it coming, and everyone was weepy-eyed for how afraid she must have been when it exploded. These Capitol jerks were plain stupid. It doesn't matter how you felt as a tribute, how fearful the arena was, or how awful it feels to kill someone. But once you're a victor, even stubbing your toes is a national trauma.

* * *

 ** _District One A few weeks before the Reaping of the 101st Games_**

Radiance stayed away from the training center, spending most of her hours hanging out at Copper's house. Copper was still bandaged up from the victory tour attack, and Radiance spent most of her day reading to her mentor.

"So," Copper looked up from the puzzle she was working with, "You know who's going to volunteer this year."

Radiance pursed her lips, "Do we have to talk about this?"

Copper sighed, "Honey, the reaping's only a couple weeks away. I'm not cleared to mentor, it's going to be you and Odyssey."

Radiance knew the doctor said Copper couldn't mentor. But she was hoping that her mentor would get well in time. "You still think you shouldn't this year?"

"I'm going with you, but I have a whole slew of doctor's appointments. I can't help the tributes if I'm knocked up on drugs. Besides, Odyssey can give you a ton of help."

"It's just, I think I know who's going to volunteer, and I'm worried for her."

"How do you know, is she a friend of yours?"

Radiance looked at the book, the words blurring together, "We always said we'd volunteer back to back. I mentioned that maybe she doesn't have to, but she wants to, I think."

Copper nodded, "She saw you win, why shouldn't she think she can't win as well?"

"I just know she'll get hurt, and I don't want to be responsible."

Copper sighed, "Don't feel responsible. I mean, you can't bear that guilt, it will crush you. You need to talk to Odyssey, he can really understand what you're going through."

"Don't you understand me just as well?"

She stood up, "I can choose to think about my experience. But it just demobilizes me. When Odyssey thinks about his, whatever, feelings I guess, He gets motivated. We're complete opposites. He just handles stuff better." She brushed back her hair, "I need to go take a vinegar bath, I'm sorry."


	2. Tribute List

Here's the Tribute list. The form is on my profile. I'm not extremely picky, but I love characters with depth. If you submitted a tribute via TBOA reviews, please paste it to this stories reviews. It's just tedious to jump back and forth. I think I may have missed some tributes sent to me, but I can't find them in my inbox. If I have, please resend them in, if you can. I'm sorry about the confusion.

Thanks for all those who've sent one in so far!

 **District One**

Male- Heath General - (Jms2)

Female- Silk Vermillion - (A M4D TE4 P4RTY)

 **District Two**

Female- Alexandra Rew - (DoTheGeekDance)

Male Felix Marlow (A M4D TE4 P4RTY)

 **District Three**

Female Ruby Valencia (xSakura-Blossomsx)

Male Peltier Chandler (CelticGames4)

 **District Four**

Female Blair Maddison (xSakura-Blossomsx)

Male- Bjorn Timmons - (HogwartsDreamer113)

 **District Five**

Female Larret Shire (SibunaMockingjay ~ Guest)

Male Josu Baxter (LincsStef)

 **District Six**

Female Lucina Howard (We'reAllOkay)

Male Maxwell Friezer

 **District Seven**

Female Riley Asper (Jms2)

Male Demetri Oakson (ILovHungerGames)

 **District Eight**

Female Tricolette Taffeta ( 20)

Male Nylon Hemmings (Manny Siliezar)

 **District Nine**

Female Alena Hans

Male Rust Waxy ( 20)

 **District Ten**

Female Virginia Bull (Lady Lysa Ayron)

Male Levi Tucson (Josephm611)

 **District Eleven**

Female- Robin Newman – (DoTheGeekDance)

Male Roran Dale (jadeRavenstone)

 **District Twelve**

Female- Sadira Ness – (HogwartsDreamer113)

Male Oliver Hendricks


	3. Chapter 3

**_I know this has taken a while. I'm working at a camp in rural New Mexico for the summer, and I've been really busy packing, etc. Anyway, the camp has limited wifi, at least from what they said. So updating may take longer than normal._**

 ** _I did this chapter a bit different, introducing the tributes from the first District. It's not a reaping, so I hope you guys like it._**

 **The Capitol**

At least they weren't being taped live, Hadrian sighed with relief as Gemini slipped into the cushioned chair beside his. "You ready for a great interview?" He pulled on his tie, the make-up people were trying to choke him.

Gemini smiled, "I am, are you?"

Hadrian nodded, "We're not broadcasting live, so feel free to take a break, get a drink of water, anything you need."

She nodded, "Don't worry, I've done plenty of interviews. I'm definitely ready."

"Ok," Hadrian motioned to the camera to start rolling, "We have the pleasure of visiting with Gemini Heavensbee today. Some of you may know her as our new assistant Gamemaker. Gemini, tell us, what does this position mean for you?"

"Well, for one a whole lot more work," the two chuckled, before she continued, "Lafayette and I work hard to ensure the Games are always different. With such a long history, we don't want the tributes, or our viewers to become bored, or start to feel that the Games are becoming repetitive."

"That sounds like quite a challenge."

"It is, but it's one I'm happy to work with. We are definitely grateful for all that previous Gamemakers have done, it's amazing to continue that legacy."

"Your family, especially, has done much to build that legacy."

Gemini smiled, "Yes, our creed has always been to use our talents to benefit the nation. And I'm happy to think that we have."

Hadrian glanced at his notes, "Are you eager to follow in your uncle's footsteps?"  
"Oh, my Uncle Plutarch is not easily followed. I don't think anyone can ever match what he has done for the games."

"Does his style influence the way you've helped plan these games?"  
She grinned, "I think my uncle's style has helped every Gamemaker in their plans. Of course no one's ever going to really catch his spirit and enthusiasm, though I won't exclude myself, since I'm a Heavensbee and all."

"You have any guesses on how long Lafayette plans on staying as Head Gamemaker?"

Gemini shrugged, "You'd have to ask him yourself, but most Head Gamemakers stay in that position about five years. Lafayette and I haven't talked about his retirement plans, but I know he enjoys his job, so I don't expect him to quit anytime soon."

Hadrian turned towards the camera, "Great insights from Assistant Gamemaker Gemini Heavensbee, folks. Be sure to send in your questions for our interview with Head Gamemaker Lafayette Thrope, live at this same time tomorrow." He waved at the cameraman, and the studio lights dimmed.

Gemini stretched back, her fingertips touching above her head, "Ya'll sure do sound like you want Thrope to retire."

Hadrian rolled his eyes, "I don't write the questions, Gem. Apparently an assistant, soon to be chief Gamemaker makes a juicy story. This stuff's no better than tabloids."

"Oh, don't be such a downer. Come on, you should come out for lunch, cheer you up with something tasty."

"I'd love to, but I promised Augustus I'd get some background details on some of this year's escorts. Apparently one of them is getting a divorce, and our studio wants to be the first to release it."

"Yeah, I saw that you guys are going to do an interview with Tempest?"

Hadrian scowled, "Yeah, district One's escort. She's recovered enough to tell her view of the terror attack in district Seven."

"I'm sure you're _so_ delighted to talk to her." She grinned as he sighed in frustration. "Really, I'm sorry for you. But you've got to see this from her point of view, this is one of her best chances at achieving a national hero medal."

"Simply because she was standing in the right place at the wrong time." Hadrian mumbled.

* * *

 **District One**

Radiance trailed alongside Odyssey as he set a brisk pace towards the district training center, "So tell me again, why do I need to come today?"

"Both mentors are supposed to visit the Sunday before the reaping. Give the volunteers a week to smooth things over, make sure everything's going to work out."

"You've been coming here by yourself all year, why do you need me today?

Odyssey clapped her across the back, making Radiance wince, "You're a mentor this year, you need to learn to play your part better." He waved her through the gate of the training facility. Kids stopped their exercising to wave, some even ran over and asked for autographs. Odyssey graciously declined, saying they would have to do a meet and greet with Radiance later.

"I don't need a meet and greet with these kids," Radiance muttered as he waved his badge under the scanner, alerting the staff to their arrival, "I've spent time with most of these kids last year, I know a bunch of them."

Odyssey chuckled, "It never hurts to be friendly."

Silk slipped the dagger in her sleeve, rushing to finish her prep work. She hadn't seen Radiance in a long while, and she was certain she would impress her old friend today.  
"Guess you must be excited about meeting with the mentors, right?" A slim blonde winked at her, "Your chances must be pretty good seeing what good friends you and Rad girl were."

"Just 'cause she hasn't shown up lately doesn't mean she's not my friend still." Silk pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. "And, yeah, my chances are much higher than yours." She slammed her locker shut, turning her back on the blonde.  
"Come on, Silk. Every one of us knows Radiance. Don't think you'll get better treatment just 'cause you trained together some."

Silk ignored her as she stalked towards the atrium where they were going to meet the two mentors. The director had only chosen 12 students to come to this meeting. The blonde was just jealous since she had been left out. It wasn't like she still couldn't volunteer, it was just expected that one of the six girls here today would end up being the tribute.

"Hello, Miss Vermillion." The Director checked her name off on a pad, "Always on time. You can go on in the room if you like."

Silk shrugged, stepping through the doorway. Radiance was standing pn the small platform, her eye's lighting up when she saw her. "Hey, Rad." Silk stepped her way. "It's good to see you."

"I didn't know you were going to be in the meeting today." Radiance tried to sound cheerful. "I guess that's a congratulations."

Silk raised her eyebrows. "We both got to meet the mentors last year, why shouldn't I still be in the top twelve?"

Radiance shook her head, attempting to laugh. "I don't know. Guess I should have come watch you train more."

Silk stared at her for a second, wondering why Radiance was so serious, "Come on, training's pretty stupid anyway. And you'll get to see me actually perform in the games, that'll be a much better show."

The director clapped her hands, "Please everyone, lets get seated." The students shuffled, Silk making sure to grab a chair closest to the platform. "I'm glad everyone could come today, and we are very thankful that our mentors could come speak to us today." A small amount of handclapping followed, but Odyssey cut it off, jumping to start the meeting.

"We should really thank you, Director Midas. Under your guidance the Academy has blossomed. Anyway, it's always nice to meet our recruits. Radiance and I are pleased to be mentors this year. Today's your chance to ask questions, and really decide if you're cut out to volunteer in one week."

Radiance settled into her chair, glad Odyssey was already slated to handle most of the meeting. She wasn't sure what she would say. Recommend none of them volunteer? That would definitely ruin her reputation.

A hand shot up from the front, a wiry girl standing, "I'm not yet 17, should I wait one more year to volunteer?"  
Odyssey nodded, "I'd recommend it, I was 18 when I won my games. However Radiance was only 15 when she achieved victory last year. Radiance, do you think age plays a great factor?"  
She swallowed, "Well, it was a special year, both of us had to be 15." She felt 24 eyes on her, and she wiped her hands on her jeans, "Um, I think I wish I was older. But it didn't end up hurting me."

Silk smiled to herself. She was 16, and just knew she could handle anything. If Radiance could win at only 15, she could definitely make it, especially with the added year.

A boy in the back stood up, "I want to know from Odyssey, how I become the leader of the pack. You were the leader in your games, how do I do this?"

Odyssey nodded, "What's your name?"

The kid grinned, "Heath. I know I'm going to volunteer, it's my last year."

"And you want to be the alliance leader, right?"  
Heath nodded, while Odyssey continued to speak, "Well, for one thing, you have to realize the leader is the one most likely not to come home."

Radiance glanced at Odyssey, why would he say something like that? Several of the kids shifted nervously, taken aback by the statement.

"Why would that be?" Heath pressed.

"You're in the most danger, taking care of the others. Being the head isn't necessarily the best spot, Heath. It's also hard when your allies die, and you were in charge of making sure they were all right."

Heath shrugged, "I'd be alright, I mean you did it. And you have good advice for me."

Odyssey inclined his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. "It's your decision. But I would let someone else take over that role. And you can't even know who will be in charge till after training. Maybe one of the other kids will push for that position."  
Heath shook his head, "Winning the games would be useless for me, unless I was in charge of the alliance. It's just my goal here, you know?"

"I know," Odyssey sighed, "We all have our goals that was just my advice."

 **Kind of short, but at least something. Anyway, what do you think of Silk and Heath? I know that's not too much to go on, but there will be more later, promise.**


	4. Mountain Attitude

_So, a bit more time for Fourth of July weekend. I love writing about this when thinking about the American revolution. ;-) My life mantra, "A little rebellion now and then is a good thing..." (Thomas Jefferson, btw) and the Hunger Games are all about rebellion!  
_

 ** _District 2_**

Last year she had been District 12's escort. What a relief to win a career this year. Atlanta slipped on her blue high heels, pleased at the sheen of sparkles on the toes.  
Her thoughts drifted towards the last games, the strange happenings that had seemed to pop up throughout the Capitol. She shivered as she recalled the ghostly meeting in the Cohen victor gardens, the package she had been asked to hand over to Snider, the District Twelve mentor.

Atlanta always did what she was told, and she had handed over the bundle, too terrified of the garden ghost to ponder what was inside. Peering into the mirror, she applied another coat of silver lipstick, rubbing her lips together.

The District Mayor stepped into the room, his heavy boots clomping on the wooden floor. "This is your first time to work in our district, correct?"

Atlanta smiled, "Yes, you can't imagine how happy I am to be here. This crisp mountain air is just so refreshing."

His eyes were like fish balls, round and extremely ugly. The left one twitched as he stared at her. "You've been an escort for long?"  
"Nearly seven years," She shook her curls, enjoying the silk feel of the wig brushing her bare shoulders.

He nodded, his bald head glistening with sweat. "I'm not sure I could be in your position for that long, but to each his own. What did you think of twelve?"  
She rolled her blue eyes, "Twelve is nothing like your fine place, Mr. Mayor. Your district is stunning in comparison. Of course, nothing is as dazzling as the Capitol." She picked up her parasol, twirling it as she glanced once more in the mirror."

The mayor seemed to ponder a moment, "What about the attitude, the mentors, what did you think of them?"

Atlanta cocked her eyebrows, "They were kind of uptight. I'm sure Loki and Rhea are friendlier than a dozen Raquel's put together."

The mayor suppressed a chuckle at the mention of District Twelve's surly female mentor. "It's always nice to hear an opinion. Why don't we head on out to the square?" The escort was so trivial, her assessment on the mentors was rather dull. For years he had heard a sign would come from twelve, something to stir the embers. Every year he pondered the old prophecies, but he was never in close proximity with anyone from that side of Panem to even ask.

Atlanta nodded eagerly, excited knowing there were almost always volunteers for this district. It wouldn't just be another boring reaping. She practically danced to the doorway, pushing it open into the morning air.  
Raising her hands, she blinked at the harsh light. The sky was perfectly blue, and the sun rays seemed to reflect off all the metal camera surfaces encircled around the square. Ignoring the fact that she was temporarily blind, she stepped forward. Her heel caught on the wooden platform, and she toppled forward.

* * *

Alexandra Rew bit back a laugh as the escort fell on her face. The woman shrieked, and a half dozen peacekeepers surrounded her. Glancing at her own set of heels, she couldn't believe the woman couldn't manage to take just a few steps in them.

"Looks like you'll be keeping company with the village idiot, Alex." Delilah snorted beside her.

Alex nodded, running her fingers through her short hair. The stage took a few moments to quiet down, as the escort pulled herself together. Characteristically, the district people remained stoic. Laughter was a waste of breath, if one was humored, you kept it to yourself.

Delilah continued to chat, "I'm not sure how you're going to put up with her. Especially if she calls you anything other than Alex."

"Simple," Alex grinned, "A few punches and she should stop annoying me."

A tap on the mic returned focus to the escort. "Welcome, Welcome, to the 101st annual Hunger Games." Alex couldn't help noticing that she sounded short of breath. Couldn't the Capitol spare someone with a brain for their district?

"As usual," the escort seemed in a hurry to get right to the point. "Ladies first." Alex didn't care who was reaped, she kept her mind focused on her appearance when she volunteered.

The escort read the name, and Alex pushed herself forward. Raising a hand in salute, she shouted. "I am your volunteer!"

Climbing the steps, Alex folded her arms, and set her lips into a thin smile. "What is your name, dear?" the mic was shoved towards her lips.

"Alexandra Rew. But don't call me anything but Alex."

The escort beamed, hoping she looked more calm than she felt. "Very good. Now for the gentlemen."

* * *

Felix sensed his family's pride as he strode to the platform. He had done what his parents had dreamed their son would do. They had spent a ton of money on his training, and now it was time to watch their investment cash in.

The escort smiled his way, and he felt himself wondering what she could be so happy about. Didn't she realize what a fool she had made of herself in front of the entire district?

"And your name?"

"Felix Marlow." He caught his father's eye. He was beaming with delight. Felix breathed deeply, cracking his knuckles. This had to be the most boring time he would have until the games started.

The escort laid a hand on his shoulder, "And now, your tributes for our 101st Games, Felix Marlow, and Alexandra Rew!"

Felix turned, just in time to see the girl knock her fists into the escort's jaw. "I told you, call me Alex!" A peacekeeper jumped forward, ready to pull her back. Alex brushed past him, marching into the justice building.

Behind him, Felix heard their mentor Loki, "Holy Smokes, that girl is nuts." The escort was shrieking, while the mayor's assistant attempted to calm the woman. The mayor spoke into the mic, dismissing the crowd.

Felix felt his stomach twist as he realized the mayor wasn't about to read the Treaty of Treason. Wasn't the reaping unfinished if that was not done?

Loki placed a hand on Felix's shoulder, propelling him inside the justice building. "You sure we're done?" Felix glanced into Loki's face.

"Yep," Loki grinned, "Think the mayor's had enough excitement for the day. Have anyone special you saying goodbye to?"

"Nah, just my family. I mean I love them, but they knew I was volunteering, so we already had our goodbyes."

* * *

Alex paced inside the tight room, knowing her parents were going to be nuts. They wouldn't understand what all she had done.

The door swung open, and Alex braced herself as her mom descended on her. "What were you thinking? You're our only daughter, and you just insulted the Capitol. They'll punish you inside the arena, mark my words."

Her dad sighed, too frustrated to speak. Alex glanced his way before answering her mother, "It's fine. It was just a show of force. Just watch, I'll win."

Her mom shook her head, angry tears filling her eyes, "I thought after Odile died, you decided it wasn't worth the risk."

Alex bit her lip, "Odile was my best friend, they killed her, and I'm going to get them back for it. I'm winning for her."

Her mom sighed, but before she could scold, the door opened. "Time's up."

Her dad gave her a quick hug, while her mom began to wail. Alex plugged her ears, annoyed that her mother was so emotional in public.

 _ **Time for your thoughts!**_

 _ **Questions-**_

 _ **1) Think punching the escort was a good idea? How do you rate Alex?**_

 _ **2) Felix, your opinion?**_


	5. Chapter 5 Authors note

Hey everyone!

Some of you might know I'm working at a camp in very rural NM. I tried PMing a few who asked where I've been, but it's almost impossible to get in touch with everyone. It's super rural, like 80 miles from a McDonald's. We're supposed to have internet but it works very slowly, and I can only get online about an hour each weekend. By that time, I am so backed up on email's and Facebook, I don't have any time top go over the story. SO I am putting on hold until school starts in the fall.

I'm sure this must be frustrating, it is for me too! But trying to write the few short hours free on the weekend is a mess, I read the few sentences I can scribble down, and they make no sense! SO once I get back to civilization, I'll have more time to write something you guys can enjoy.

Hope your summer is going well!


	6. The Plot Thickens

**The long lost writer has returned! At least for a while, I'm still traveling around, but hope to start updating regularly soon. Anyway, I need a male tribute for District 3, 5, and 6. I'll take the most creatively written, so go ahead and send in your ideas! :-) it's a competition, hehe. :-)  
**

 **This chapter features characters from multiple places, and not necessarily actually in their respective reaping. The reapings are just incredibly tedious to write, and I find that an extremely difficult setting to actually introduce a character. Hope this works for everyone.**

* * *

 _ **The Capitol**_

The rich coffee swirled as Gemini poured in caramel creamer. Her eyes scanned the City Center, her brain guessing at the numbers that crowded the square below. This is where the ordinary Capitolites, what Gemini's class referred to as the plebians, would spend reaping day. Gemini's circle of friends would gather around wine tables, sipping in festooned courtyards throughout the city.

But Gemini's duties as a Gamemaker prevented her from joining the celebrations. Not that she hadn't been invited to a half a dozen parties. A voice spoke at her elbow, startling her. Her fingers bumped the cup, coffee splattering unto the windowsill.

"Wishing you were down there?" The young man rubbed at his collar, pulling at the tie.

Gemini inclined her head, "Are you new to the team this year? I don't believe we've met." She took a step away, picking up her cup and stirring in some sugar. How had he managed to sneak up on her?

He glanced around the domed room, the crystal ceiling, the curved glass walls, allowing any of the Gamemakers to peer outside. His voice, smooth, ignored her question. "You wonder who designed this, they can't imagine we'd get any work done, not with a view like this."

Gemini felt a tinge of frustration, "If a simple view can distract you, you aren't very committed to your goal." She stepped away, her heels clicking. She bit her lip as she heard his shoes trailing her. Finally, she turned, studying his face. "Do you need something?"

"Me?" He glanced about, "Of course not. Which floor are you heading to?"

Gemini regretted not taking a muscle relaxer, her shoulders were so tense it was giving her a headache. "Which floor are you working at? What is your assignment?"  
The PA system crackled, the tributes had been chosen for district 3, the cameras were switching to District 4. Various Gamemakers jumped to switch the monitors gracefully, their staccato like commands grating on Gemini's nerves.

His dark eyes crinkled, "Do I look like I need an assignment?"

Gemini had enough, "Look, I'm not just an errand girl here, I am a Gamemaker, if you don't leave me alone, I will make sure you are fired." She turned, heading to her desk. Sitting down, she noticed the man leaning against a wall. Was he watching her?

Unlocking her screen, her fingers began to play with the arena. Just a few finishing touches left. A message from security flashed on her tablet, unauthorized visitors were reported in the premises. Geminin held up her watch, maneuvering to snap a picture. He was wearing shades now, but she knew his eyes were on her.

She messaged the picture to security, requesting they check who he was. Her mind was too anxious to go over the complicated ideas for the games. She switched screens, watching Augustus and Hadrian discuss tributes. Their words really didn't matter to her, but it was a welcome distraction. No matter what he was saying on camera, it was always enjoyable to watch Hadrian. Her eyes scanned his face, noticing how his suit brought out the blue in his eyes. She made a mental note to tell him he looked good in that color.

A white blur caught her attention, and she swiveled her chair to see two Peacekeepers walking the stalker. A third approached her, "I'm sorry Miss Heavensbee, he managed to falsify an ID and get in this morning."

"But who was he?"

"A Mr. Azaria, I think he was with one of the tabloids. Since the Ministry of Information installed new regulations, they've been working on going around media measures."

"Figures," Geminin sighed, "Thanks for dealing with him. Now maybe I can focus my job." As the Peacekeeper walked off, she rubbed at her temples. How many times did she have to tell the rebels to leave her alone during working hours? Now they would be all irritated at her for getting Azaria booted out, but what else could she do? Security already knew there was a breach, her fraternizing with him would only cause a bigger mess.

Sitting down at her computer, she felt the heavy load on her shoulders. Guilt that the games were still happening, that the plots had not yet materialized. How much longer would innocent people suffer?

* * *

 _ **District 12**_

Sadira skipped down the stairs, admiring how her new leather shoes glittered. She patted at her head, making certain her long hair stayed carefully in place. Why was the front door open? She stepped onto the wooden floor, closing the entryway door. She peered into the hallway mirror, her fingertips brushing at her cheeks.

The living room door swung open, and her mother looked at her, lips twisting, "Sadira, please step in here."

Sadira glanced up, "You okay?" Her mother's expression remained the same, and Sadira stepped into the living room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. The lights were off, the curtains drawn.

"This is our youngest daughter, our boys are helping the mayor set up."

"Silence." The voice was sharp, and Sadira shrank back. Her eyes found her father's face, and she searched him for a hint that everything would be alright.

"Sadira Ness." A man stepped towards her, his uniform marking him as an official from the Capitol. "Do you trust your father?"

Sadira swallowed, wondering why he was asking. "Yes," she answered hesitantly, "He's my dad."

The man nodded, "And if I told you he was sheltering treasonous plots against our nation?"

"My dad's not a rebel." Sadira looked at her father, his face was a ghostly white. She rubbed at her skirt, wishing the silky material did a better job of drying her sweating palms.

"I am sorry for your misplaced trust," the man sighed, turning to face her dad, "Dieter Ness, you are under arrest for treason against the state."

A sharp cry from her mom, as two peacekeepers grabbed her dad's shoulders. They shoved Sadira out of the way, dragging him out the doors. Sadira shook her head, suddenly realizing they were taking her dad away. Pushing past the official, she ran down their front steps, grabbing a hold of her father.

"Wait, let me speak to him!" The men stopped, and Sadira forced herself not to cry, "You're innocent, this is all a mistake, right Papa?"

Dieter Ness pushed against the men restraining him, "Sadira, you must be strong. I made my choices, it is time for you to make yours."

Tears wet her cheeks, "Papa, will they let you go soon? What will happen to you?"

Around them, people stopped, surprised that Dieter Ness was under arrest. Wasn't his brother the mayor? Didn't his oldest daughter marry the head Peacekeeper?

"Enough, we need to move the prisoner before it attracts too much attention." Hands pulled Sadira back, as the Peacekeepers dragged Dieter to the Justice building. She slipped on the damp cobblestone, catching herself on a lamppost.

"What's happening to your father?" Voices surrounded her, "Where are your brothers?"

Sadira looked into the faces that formed a circle around her, "I don't know, these guys just showed up." The words slipped out without too much thought, "My brothers are helping my uncle."

"Something's rotten when a good man like Dieter is dragged off like a common criminal." A man cursed as the small crowd murmured their disapproval.

"Don't worry," An older woman rubbed Sadira's back, "I'm sure after the reaping this mess will be all sorted out."

* * *

 ** _District 10_**

Levi rubbed at his eyes, splashing water unto his face. He wouldn't mind the reaping too much if it didn't mean he had to miss sleep. Pulling on his heavy boots, he clomped out of the house. Sunshine stung his eyes, and he regretted that he hadn't thought to take a hat.

"Levi, you woke up in time!" Levi paused long enough for the most cheerful person he knew to catch up.

"Hey, Blake. You know you don't need to alert everyone that you're around."

Blake grinned, "You don't like my yelling in the middle of the street?"

"Not particularly." Levi rubbed at his hair. "I wish the reaping was scheduled after noon. Then I could get enough sleep to work tonight."

"Can't you take a nap afterwards?"

Levi shook his head, "And miss all the food? No way. It's probably the only day my mom isn't stingy with passing out sweets. I'm not going to pass that up for some shut eye."

"But you still have to work tonight?" Blake whistled, "Just think, you're one of the few people who are actually going to make money today. And you'll be too busy to even spend it! So you get to save money on reaping day."

Levi glanced at Blake, wondering how he could be so nonsensically cheery. It was probably best not to burst the kids bubble about making money. Tons of merchant's made money today. Loads more than he ever would as a night security guard.

The streets started getting crowded as they walked in closer to the square. "Know where Casey is?"

Blake shrugged, "Am I my sister's keeper?" he laughed. "Goodness, you know more about her than me."

Levi stepped into the long line, craning his neck to see if Casey was already ahead of them.  
"Too bad we didn't come earlier," Blake chattered, "Then we could have beat the long lines here."

"We would never have made it." Levi stated, "It's kind of useless to try and get here early, there's always a line." He swatted away a fly from his neck, really wishing he had a hat in the relentless District 10 heat.

Blake rolled his eyes, "I bet Casey made it out here already. She likes to skip the line."

"Good for her." Levi muttered, his eyes still scanning the crowd. He kind of wished Casey was here instead of Blake. She might actually be able to cheer him up just a bit.

* * *

 ** _District Four_**

Bjorn stepped out of the cab, waving at the gaggle of reporters clustered around the train. He flexed his arms, throwing his head back. The escort, touched his shoulder, encouraging him to board the train.

"So long, District Four," He swiveled his shoulders, glancing back at his home, "See all you guys soon."

He grinned as he glanced around the ornate train compartment. He reached for a pear, taking a bite of the sweet juiciness. "Nice, real nice." He picked up another piece of golden fruit, "You want one?" he held it up to his district partner.

The girl shook her head, "No thanks."

He wiped some juice from his chin, "Your name's Blair, right? Don't think I've run across you. Too bad, 'cause you're kind of pretty."

The escort pranced in, "It's so lovely to spend time with you two, would you like me to round up Annora and Ripley, I'm sure you want to meet them." Her emerald studded eyebrows lifted as she smiled down at them.

"Sure," Bjorn waved his hand, picking up a cluster of green grapes, "I'm looking forward to whatever tidbits of advice they can pass out."

"Alrighty, you two enjoy the food, it is the freshest in Panem." The doors swished as the escort bounced away.

Bjorn poured some purple punch, "You really should try this stuff out, it might add some color to your cheeks."

The girl's eyebrows furrowed, "Color? My cheeks are fine." She took a step towards the table, trying to decide whether to stand or sit.

He chuckled, "You looked as pale as a ghost at the reaping. I'm glad I volunteered, nothing to be nervous about with that decision. You, on the other hand," he shook his head as he peeled a mandarin orange.

She crossed her arms, her eyes flashing at his insinuations, "Well, some people don't plan all their lives to go around murdering each other."

"Murder?" He shook his head, sucking on the tangy flavor, "It's just a game, and you don't need to be all uptight. Loosen up, it might help you live a tiny bit longer."

The doors swung open as Annora walked in. "Enjoying the food?" She picked up a plate, "Pineapple is my personal favorite."

Bjorn grinned, "Yeah, it's pretty swell. I'd do anything to eat like this every day."

Annora raised her eyebrows, "That's positively the most stupid thing I have ever heard anyone say." She set down her plate, "Good job, you've made me lose my appetite. Something few can achieve."

She turned towards the girl, "Your name's Blair, right?"

Blair nodded, while Annora continued, "I'm sorry there wasn't a volunteer for you. Some years things don't go as well planned at the Centre, the girls aren't as interested in volunteering. But don't count yourself out, you still have as much a chance as any volunteer from four ever had."

Bjorn nearly choked, "Her, a chance? She's obviously a wimp, probably won't last,"

Annora stepped back, swinging. Kiwi spilled from Bjorn's lips as Annora's hand cut across his cheek. "Hold your tongue, Bjorn Timmons. Ripley's not here to take over your education right now, so I will."

Bjorn tasted blood on his cheek, and he rubbed at his mouth, "What was that for?"

Annora stared at him, "I've seen you down at the training center. I know your skill. Listen to me, don't push my buttons by putting down other tributes; you and I might just get along."

Annora glanced back at Blair. The girls face was positively ghostly. "Blair, you need to drink some water. You look dehydrated."

Blair nodded, mutely drinking the glass Annora handed her. "I look forward to working with you two." She stepped away, taking a golden pear with her.

The doors swung open, and Annora paused, looking back at the kids, "Oh, by the way. Welcome to the 101st Hunger Games."

* * *

 **Ok...that's it for now.**

 **Your personal favorite? Which one intrigued you? And which one can you not wait to hear more about?**

 **I love reviews! The longer, the better :-)**

 **And I had deleted the author's note...but apparently I need to keep it to not mess up reviews. Sorry about that, hopefully all is fixed now!**


	7. A Country of Cowards?

_**Probably my only update for a few days. Maybe even a week. I realized I haven't gotten to introduce too many tributes...is the story going too slow?**_

 **District One Train**

Radiance sat, her knees tucked under her chin. Her fingers picked at a stray fiber on her loose-fitting pants. The unmistakable pitches of the escort, and the calm replies from the tributes echoed past her door. She ignored them, they could do without her presence for a while.

Her door swung open, and she opened her blue eyes a bit, just enough to make out Odyssey's profile.

"Not bedtime, why are you curled up in bed?" He opened the curtains, letting in the bright afternoon sun. Purple mountains swept past, reminding Radiance they were just a short distance from the Capitol.

Radiance wet her lips, "I can't go talk to them right now." She pressed her hands together, hoping he would just leave her alone. Couldn't he tell she didn't want company?

"Sulking doesn't change who's in the games." He picked up a pitcher off the night stand, pouring a tall glass. "Here, you haven't drunk enough today."  
Her fingers clasped the crystal, "I don't want to talk to her, to encourage, or whatever I'm supposed to do with her."

Odyssey's eyes darkened, "So you want to be a failure as a mentor? To treat your friend like you don't care about her anymore?"

Her brows furrowed, "No, I just don't want to celebrate her, whatever, you know. She's probably going to die, and I'm kind of mad." She took a long drink of the water, realizing it was her first all day.

"Radiance," Odyssey bowed his head, looking into her face, "This may be Silk's last week on earth. You claim to be her friend, yet want to continue holding a grudge against her? Think she'll go into the arena regarding you still as her friend? Yeah, she disregarded your advice, but is that a reason to punish her last moments with you?"

She sucked in her breath, "I'm not punishing her."

"Than what are you doing? Enjoying feeling sorry for yourself, pondering how to ignore your childhood best friend for an entire week, while still claiming to be her mentor? Or are you going to throw that job away, just so her chances of living are that much slimmer?"

Radiance now scowled, sitting up straighter, "Are you really trying to make me feel worse?"

Odyssey stood up straight, "I don't know, maybe you can figure it out." He pulled his hands from his pockets, heading out towards the hall.

"Odyssey," Radiance's voice cut him short, his hand resting on the door knob, "Where are you going?"

"To the dining car, see how our tributes are doing."

Radiance pulled her feet from the bed, sliding her toes into her sandals. "Wait, I'm coming with you."

 **District 3 Train**

Ruby studied the boy, noticing how his cheeks were still wet. He had probably just managed to stop crying. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "Promise I won't kill you when we get into the games."

The boy's eyes lit up slightly, a friendly smile passing over his face. Ruby managed a smile, "Looks like both of us had tough luck, huh?"

He nodded, but remained silent. Ruby picked at her fingernails, "Our district always has the lousiest luck. I doubt Bernard even tried to bring us home anymore." The train car remained silent, and Ruby wondered if her partner hated talking.

She glanced his direction. "I always wanted to be an inventor, what about you?"

The boy shifted in his seat, and Ruby again peered into his face. His eyes were bright, large brown things. He covered his mouth, and shook his head, waving his free hand at her. Ruby stared at him. "Why don't you just talk to me?"

He shook his head, his eyes pleading with her. "You can't talk?"

He nodded, a relieved looking pouring over his face. Ruby sighed, "You could have just said something." Her cheeks reddened, realizing, that no he couldn't say anything.

"So, I think I heard your name, was," Ruby scrambled to recall. "It started with a 'P', right?"

The boy nodded. Ruby brushed at her blonde hair, wondering how old he was. He looked thirteen, maybe younger.

"Why don't I just call you P?" He nodded. "Are you, what, 13?"

He smiled, showing his crooked teeth, shaking his head.

"You're older?" A nod. "14?" He shook his head again, "15?" He nodded enthusiastically.

Ruby had trouble believing he could be that old. "Well, I'm only three years older than you. You know my name?"

He nodded. "Do you give people sign names?" Another affirmative smile. Boy, this kid was the cheeriest person she's ever been around. "So what's mine?"

He studied her, his fingers playing with his curly brown hair. His eyes lit up, and he ran his thumbs over his nails. He repeated the motion, making certain she was watching.

"I do play with my fingernails a lot," Ruby couldn't help grinning.

The doors swung open, and Bernard stepped through. He scowled, looking both of them up and down. "I'm your mentor, if you haven't figured that out. The escort said your names were Peltier and Ruby." He rubbed at his neck. "Would say it was nice to meet you, but I really can't."

Ruby glanced at Peltier, wondering how the rough mentor would treat him. "Peltier can't talk, I think he's mute."

Bernard nearly choked, "You've got to be kidding me." He slapped his lap, "Why do I even bother introducing myself as your mentor?"

Ruby frowned, "P's really nice. He can communicate, he just can't make noise."

Bernard sent her an icy glare. "Peltier," The boy looked openly at the mentor, "You look like a nice kid and all, but I have to tell you, your chances are minimal."

"Why?" Ruby protested, "He can fight, he just can't talk." She crossed her arms, irritation visible on her face.

Peltier wished Ruby wouldn't try to stand up for him. He understood why the mentor felt the way he did. It was easy to view his situation as hopeless.

"Ruby," Bernard let out a long breath, "Please don't argue with me. While I do pity the kid, the sponsors won't ever view him in that way. And as soon as we come to terms with that, the better able we'll be to focus on your own playing _and winning_ the game."

Ruby's lips twisted, "Is this how you treated Pixelle last year? Or that other boy, Teddy? As nothing but cannon fodder?"  
Bernard shook his head, "Look, I give each tribute a chance. But I'm also honest. I thought Pixelle had a slight chance, I trained them both. But I've never seen a person with disabilities make it past day one in the games. Ok? I don't expect our district to be the first. Has Three ever been the first in anything?"

Peltier stood, wishing he wasn't the subject of their argument. He smiled at Ruby, hoping she sees that he appreciated her concern. Ruby didn't return his smile, she was too focused on arguing with Bernard. Nodding at Bernard, he stepped away, heading towards his room.

He cringed, hearing Bernard continue to encourage Ruby not to waste her energy helping him out. It wasn't like Peltier wasn't used to being ignored, even being bullied. But to know that his mentor had already written him off as dead. A small part of him wanted to resist, even yearned to live. But reason screamed that he was going to die. Should he accept death so easily?

 **The Capitol**

He clicked the silver spoon against the porcelain, watching the sugar dissolve into the green liquid. Touching it to his lips, he inhaled the rich flavor. "Excellent choice, Fenia," President Theopholis Snow nodded towards his personal assistant, "This brew is rather soothing. Has Hadrian arrived yet?"

Fenia nodded, "He's waiting just outside. Are you ready for him?"

Snow waved his hand, "Yes, send him in. And you can wait outside, please." The assistant stepped towards the door, her footsteps dissolving into the thick carpet.

Snow stirred in another spoonful of sugar, wondering what sort of person Hadrian was up close and personal. Most broadcasters annoyed him, they were an entirely self-absorbed bunch. But at least they kept the masses sidetracked.

The doors opened, and Hadrian walked through. He paused, and Snow noticed his hesitation. He set his tea cup down, the glass clinking sharply.

"Welcome, Hadrian. So good of you to come."

The young man swallowed, "Thank you, Mr. President. The invination was an honor."

Snow smiled, beckoning him forwards, "Please, sit. I know for certain these chairs are comfortable." A few steps, and Hadrian was reclining in front of him.

"I must say, in the last year, I have become quite a fan of your morning show."

A look of surprise crossed the young man's face. "Well, thank you. I didn't expect you would watch it, it's nothing really."

Snow smiled, "You have a talent, your show is more than mere drabble. Sometimes I wonder how Flickerman discovered you."

Hadrian's cheeks reddened, "It was an accident; I never intended to be in front of the cameras."

"Perhaps that is why you are so good at what you do." He picked up his tea, sipping at the hot liquid.

"Oh, Mr. President, please. I'm just doing my job. There are dozens of other excellent broadcasters."

Snow nearly choked. Was this young man truly so humble? "Hadrian, don't underestimate yourself. Since you began, more viewers have started voting, more citizens have written their Senators. Your political commentaries are really spicing up things here in the Capitol."

A strange look filled Hadrian's blue eyes. "Truly, Mr. President?"

"Indeed," He set his teacup down. "Even I have become interested in various causes through your show. You constantly interview politicians, you make them feel relatable, as though the common man can truly influence the direction of Panem."

It was clear that the subject made Hadrian uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, rubbing at his knees. "That is really high praise, sir."

Snow smiled. "You have more influence than you realize." He briefly pondered why it made the young personality nervous.

Hadrian shrugged slightly, his eyes catching Snow's look for a short moment. "If it weren't for Flickerman, I'd still be delivering coffee. He's made me all that I am."

 _Such humility._ Snow couldn't help but wonder how it ever developed in a Capitol citizen. "Because I see such talent in you, Hadrian, I am enlisting your help."

The boy's eyebrows furrowed, "My help sir?"

"Yes. You see, there are whispers, just whispers, of treason against Panem. Seeds have been planted, thoughts of rebellion against the system."

Hadrian inhaled, his face becoming taut. "Like the events in District Seven?"

"Exactly," Snow smiled, grateful Hadrian had brains about his head, "I need your ears. You interview, converse one could say, with my victors. You see their, more hidden, thoughts. I want you to study how they truly feel concerning the games. And where those feelings may be driving them."

"Why don't you ask Flickerman? He's known them for years more than me."

"Flickerman is too full of himself. He doesn't care about the future of the country. I see in you a young man who cares how his country fares, is that not so?"

A small nod. Snow continued, "Just keep an eye out in your studios, and then come chat with me. Share any concerns you have, that is all."

Hadrian blinked, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I understand, sir."

Snow picked up hi spoon, again stirring his tea. "Very good, you are dismissed."

Outside the President's study, Hadrian struggled not to vomit. Yes, he cared about Panem. But did his cares mirror those of the President? He seriously doubted their ideas were even remotely similar. He cursed himself for not telling the President no, for refusing to cooperate.

"Hadrian," he muttered to himself, "You are a coward." He stepped out of the building, his stomach twisting at the posters for this year's Hunger Games. "This city is full of cowards." He spat at the ground. "And I am the worst one."

 _ **My brain's fried thinking of questions, so just leave a lovely review. Thanks!**_

 _ **A slight problem...I can't find any of the PM's for District 12's male tribute. I have his name written down, but I don't know who sent him in. If you sent in Oliver Hendricks, please message me his form again. Thanks!**_


	8. Short of Breath

**I know it's been ages! I've missed writing so much, you can't imagine how the characters weigh on me. I'm ready to crawl away from college and find a nook to write eternally. Unfortunately, I'll end up dying of starvation if I do that.**

* * *

"Josu, after the reaping I volunteered us to help out with taking down decorations and stuff." Dewi stepped through the kitchen door, his large frame dwarfing Josu.

Josu nodded, scarfing down a last bit of tasteless oatmeal. It didn't really surprise him that his stepfather had volunteered for another job.

"You really need his help? I'm not sure he'd do much good, I'd worry he's get in the way and get hurt." Latoya glanced over at her husband, momentarily distracted from cleaning up her youngest child. The eight month old waved his arms, crying when his mom turned away.

"He is twelve, Josu needs to start growing up." He ran a hand over Josu's younger sister's hair, "With his help, we'll be able to help a lot more, get more stuff done around the district." Five year old Silas jumped up from the table, upsetting a glass of water.

Latoya sighed, once again focusing on feeding her infant. Josu was kind of relieved they weren't talking about him. He knew he was small for his age, but he still wanted to carry his part of the weight.

"Dewi," Latoya turned to her husband, trying to speak over the noise of the kids goofing off, "Are you going to walk him down for the reaping?"

He frowned, "He needs walked down?"

Latoya grabbed Silas, pulling him away from the stove, "It's his first time, I'd like one of us to go with him."

"He's your son, you go with him." Dewi picked up a piece of toast, tramping out of the room. The baby screamed, demanding to be let out of his high chair.

Josu shivered as he saw a dark look cross his mom's face. It wasn't fair his step-dad could insult his mom whenever he felt like it, and that she just took it. And than Dewi never helped out with any of the kids.

"I can go down by myself," Josu picked up his bowl, speaking up over the noise of the infant, "I know you're busy and all."

"You sure?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, her grey eyes filled with concern, "I hate for you to do this all alone."

Josu reddened, "It's nothing, I mean, all I have to do is stand there till they draw someone's name."

Latoya gave him a relieved look, "If you possibly can, I'm just so busy with all the kids and stuff."

 _ **District Center  
**_

Larret elbowed her way towards the front of her section. Placing herself between two shorter girls, she smiled about her height. It was good to feel bigger than the others her age, somehow it made her feel just a bit better.

She tilted her head, seeing if Ferina was fine. Her ten year old sister caught her glance and waved to her from the sidelines. Larret unconsciously smiled, but then her eyebrows knit together as she saw Remaciah place a hand on Ferina's shoulder. Why did Rem have to act like such a mother? She was just their older sister, Ferina didn't need her.

The crowd jostled, knocking one of the girls next to Larret into her. The girl stumbled, her foot stomping painfully on Larret's toes. "Watch what you're doing," Larret grabbed the girl's collar, "are you even supposed to be standing with us 15 year olds?"

The girl's lips puckered, "I don't know who you are, but I don't think you're being very nice." She tossed her hair back, "I am 15, for your information."

Larret rolled her eyes, this girl was obviously a wuss. Larret turned her back slightly, blocking the annoying girl. She glanced back towards Ferina, content that her sister was still smiling. Rem could be mean, always bossing them around.

The mayor's voice rang into the mic, thanking them all for being present. Larret wondered why he would say such a thing. Didn't he know it was mandatory for them to even be here? So why was he thanking them?

Larret's mind wondered, and she didn't even notice the escort. She again glanced at her sister, sending her a semi-secret smile. Ferina grinned, and Larret nodded towards Rem's sober face. The two sister's eyes twinkled as Larret mouthed, "Old Granny, right?"

The words had barely been thought, when Ferina's face grew pale. Larret frowned, wondering what had distracted her sister. The girl next to her elbowed her sharply, as the escort repeated, "The tribute for district Five, Larret Shire."

Larret shook her head, her hands immediately moistening. Her feet stumbled on the uneven pavement, and she pulled at her blonde hair. A peacekeeper stood on each side, escorting her to the platform. Her lips were clammy, and she placed a hand over her mouth, her stomach threatening to lose her breakfast.

"My sweet goodness, what a lovely tribute we have this year," The escort shrill voice rang in Larret's ears as she made her way to the center of the platform. "Aren't you lucky to be chosen?" The escort's green face beamed into her own.

Larret took a step back, her knees shaking. Her mouth opened and closed, the sun temporarily blinding her. The escort continued to speak, while walking over to the boys bowl. Larret swallowed, but felt her throat burning, her stomach suddenly heaving.

The escort turned at the sound, her voice shrieking, "Get her off the stage!" A peacekeeper grabbed her shoulder, pivoting the wretched Larret away from the cameras. Larret grabbed for something, her chest tense. She gasped, her face reddening.

The escort hopped about, tizzying about the situation. Larret fell against the wall as she was pushed into the justice building. She grabbed a hold of her skirt, fear filling her. The district doctor suddenly appeared, ordering the room vacated. Words flashed about her head, as her face grew clammy. Realizing she could not feel her arms, she began to wail, but unable to take any air in, she sounded more like a wounded animal.

The doctor held a syringe to her arm, his tone measured and even. "We're going to put you to sleep Miss. It will give you some time to relax,"

Larret's hands pulled at his shirt, "I'm going to die," she squeaked, her eyes wide and terrified.

"No, you're simply hyper-ventilating, when you calm down all will be well."

Her eyes momentarily rolled back, and the doctor breathed a sigh of relief as the medicine took effect. Of course, he was always prepared for such an occasion, but he couldn't ever remember dealing with such an overwrought tribute.

* * *

 ** _The Capitol_**

Augustus chuckled as the camera crew readied for District Six, "Well, I'm looking forward to meeting our newest tribute, Larret seems to have a flair for the dramatic."

Hadrian cracked his knuckles, trying not to show his frustration. Willing himself to smile, he bantered, "At least her district partner seems level headed. What a calm reaction after all that hustle!"

The host nodded, glancing at the footage of Josu Baxter walking to the stage. "I think you're right Hadrian. It's a shame he appears so young."

Brushing at a brown curl that crept towards his face, Hadrian tried to ignore the last comment, "Isn't a doctor checking on Larret?"  
"Yes! In fact," Augustus scanned through the wires, "It appears he has already diagnosed it as simply a case of hyper-ventilation. What a relief!"

Hadrian sighed, relieved at the buzzer sounding, "And now folks," Augustus continued, "We have an 11 minute break. Hadrian, aren't we doing something during our little interlude."

"That's right," Hadrian looked into the cameras, "This is your chance to send in your bets, your first official chance to try your luck for this year's Hunger Games!" Flashes of past games played on the screens as Hadrian continued, "Maybe this year will be your chance to come home a victor, after all who knows? Go ahead and send in your special bets to our very own Capitol studios. Access our interactive sight from your Citizen link today."  
The Capitol seal flashed, music swelled and the studio lights dimmed. Augustus clapped him across the back, warmly thanking him for all his hard work.

Hadrian shrugged, looking down at the footage from District Five. Larret looked really awful, and the boy: So young, it just wasn't fair. Didn't the Capitol provoke the rebellion with their harsh treatment of the districts? Seeing the calm, frozen fear on the boy's face twisted his soul. Why did kids like this take the punishment for the whole country?

Shaking his head, Hadrian weakly attempted to brush the thoughts away. His eyes snapped open as Augustus' voice rang, "Are you alright? You look as though you swallowed a lemon.

"Oh, no," he sputtered, "Just a little weary, that's all."

Augustus eyes seemed to read his mind, "You need to stop overthinking everything, you'll send yourself to an early grave."

An aid brought in coffee, allowing a momentary reprieve. Hadrian sipped the soothing liquid, wondering how many guessed at his dark thoughts. He needed to cover that up more. He felt he could trust Augustus. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to push away a growing headache. His visit with Snow pulling at him. Someone was obviously watching him.

* * *

 **Thoughts on the characters? I took a bit of creative license with Larrett, hope everyone's fine with that! Anyway, trying to figure out my schedule still...but will hopefully update every two weeks or so. What's been up with everyone's fall, anyone else a bit overwhelmed with college?**


	9. Why Fight Now?

_**Hey, I kept on track! A new chapter every two weeks! Pray I'll keep that up. And the reviews are really uplifting. :-)**_

 **District Six ~ Train Ride**

Lucina stared into the closet, her eyes marveling at the vast array of clothes. She stepped in, reveling in the sheer size. It was really impressive, all sorts of sizes and hues. She fingered a soft woolen sweater, wondering if it was too warm to wear.

Brushing a strand of hair from her face, she pulled a lilac dress from a hangar. Yeah, being a tribute definitely had its downers but at least she would get to be dressed up for a couple of days.

She stepped out of the closet, slipping off her red button up. She pulled the silky fabric over her head, enjoying the feel on her arms.

Posing in front of the mirror, she smiled at her reflection. She pulled her hair out of its pins, letting it tumble over her shoulders. She pressed a finger to her cheeks, studying her mascara. Her eyes glanced towards the dresser, wondering if they were as well stocked on make-up.

A knock at the door, and the escort stuck her head in, "Lucina, we will be meeting with your mentors for dinner," She paused, blinking rapidly, "You've already found our supplies of clothes, I see."

Lucina's head bent, "I know, aren't they the best? I mean, my parents try to keep up with style and everything, but it can be hard sometimes."

The escort's lips pursed, "Please don't be late for dinner, it's very important to discuss your games strategy."

Lucina stomach flipped. She had no desire to be in these stupid games. She tossed her head, "It's not like they're going to tell me something I don't already know."

A sigh escaped the escort's lips. "You don't have to listen, but I suggest you do. Anyway, you will get awfully hungry staying in here."

Lucina studied her reflection for a few minutes after the escort left. Her rumbling stomach urged her to eat. But she dreaded meeting the mentors, not to mention her fellow tribute. If only she could stay in here and pretend like the reaping never happened.

* * *

Maxwell stirred his tea, enjoying watching the sugar dissolve. The escort was chatting about the tribute parade, and he occasionally met her eyes, hoping he appeared interested.

The mentor, Hadley, shifted in his seat, finally clearing his throat. "Maxwell, you thinking about your chances?"

"Hardly," Maxwell cleared his throat, "I'm still aggravated my name was drawn."

Hadley raised his eyebrows, "Know what you mean. You think, it's my last year and I'm done. But then your plans get turned upside down."

The doors opened as the girl came in. Maxwell glanced her way, "You found a new dress, huh?"

Lucina's blue eyes darkened, "If this is going to be my last week on earth, I want to look nice."

Maxwell tried to not choke on his tea. It was so like Lucina to be so concerned about her looks. Isn't that why they had broken up?

Hadley cracked his knuckles, "I take it you two know each other."

"Us?" Maxwell spoke lightly, "The District's small, everyone knows each other. Not to mention, we're only a year apart in school, our classes do things together."

The escort began a cheery rant on the Greek yogurt, elaborating the yogurts exemplary health benefits. Maxwell's eyes turned in Lucina's direction, twinkling as he watched her squirm in discomfort. Yes, it would be enjoyable to put a knife in that brat's back.

Hadley raised a hand in the air, "So do you guys want to be trained together or separately?"

Lucina's blue eyes widened, and she dropped her spoon, "Why would we train together, it couldn't really help us right?"

"Actually," Maxwell spoke up, "We might be good allies in the arena. Being nearly the same age, and from the same district, it would make sense to team up."

"Smart thinking," Hadley confirmed with a quick nod, "It's that sort of foresight that'll give you a victory."

Lucina paled, but before she could speak, Maxwell interjected, "Don't be so confidant Lucina, you know you've never been good at school sports. I'm not exactly the toughest guy around, but I could help shield you from some of the harsh stuff."

The escort began to ramble about what a wonderful plan this all was, but Lucina just broke into a nervous sweat. Maxwell continued to smile pleasantly, nodding along with the mentor's words.

Lucina swirled her soup around, unable to swallow the creamy mixture down. She glanced Maxwell's direction, trying to send him a nasty glare. His eyes twinkled at her, and she clenched her loose hand. It wasn't fair that she couldn't even start to look threatening.

* * *

 **District 8 Train**

The volume blared from the tv as Nylon settled on the sofa. He fingered the soft fabric, trying to pull his focus unto the Capitol show. He just couldn't allow himself to dwell on what had happened.

This morning seemed so far away. He briefly wondered if his sister had discovered the dead frog under her pillow yet. Thena would come unglued when she found it. It was too bad he wouldn't be there to hear her reaction.

Of course, she would know he was responsible. No one else would ever care to upset Thena.

He shuddered, recalling her dripping face when they came to say goodbye. His sister was normally so reserved, calm, hardly ever crying. The last time she had been that upset was his brother's funeral.

He brushed at his forehead, pushing his brown hair out of his eyes. It was so stupid for his brother to be dead. He hadn't been picked for the Games. It was just his girlfriend. Nylon couldn't understand why his brother had chosen to die. He could have always found another girl

And now Nylon was going into these Games. He wondered if his brother would still have chosen die if Nylon was the one to go. Probably not, he figured.

Nylon mentally slapped himself. He didn't want to be thinking about anything like this. Not now when he had the chance to relax.

The door swished, but Nylon didn't hear it over the blaring tv. A slight movement caught his eye.

Nylon glanced up, giving a smile to the girl as she strolled in. Her face scrunched, and Nylon reached to turn the volume down, "Sorry about that, it helps me to go deaf sometimes."

The girl tipped her head, "You want to be deaf?" Her brown eyes seemed to stare right through him.

"No," Nylon chuckled, then frowned as he looked closer at her face, "Are you bruised or something?"

"Don't you remember the reaping?"  
Nylon shook his head, "I kind of zone out during it. What did you do?"

She shuffled her feet, "I panicked, and the peacekeepers ruffed me up a little. I should have known better, I was just so," her voice trailed, and her hands twisted together.

Nylon continued to stare at her, "You tried to run or something, right?" He picked up the remote, completely muting the screen.  
She nodded, her chin quivering, "I was just so scared."

"Go ahead and sit down, um, what's your name?"

She rubbed her eyes, voice a bit muffled, "Tricolette Taffeta."

Nylon stood up, touching her shoulder and pushing her into a seat. "I'm sorry you were reaped, but we just have to make the best of it. Look, I've always wanted to visit the Capitol, this is our chance to do stuff we've never gotten to do. What's your dream?"

Her brown eyes studied him, her voice slightly hesitant, "I want to be a painter."

"That's awesome. Maybe we can find some good quality, uh, what do you use to paint?"

"Brushes." She smiled weakly.  
"Only brushes?" Nylon grinned, "It would be hard to only paint with a brush. I mean, I don't know anything but I thought you needed paint."

Tricollete's eyebrows furrowed, "Of course, but you actually paint with a brush."

* * *

 **District 12**

 **The Justice Building**

"What do you mean the female tribute isn't allowed to receive visitors?" Snider practically snarled at the official, "She was completely cooperative at the Reaping."

The official puffed his chest out, enjoying his moment of power. "Her family has been involved in seditious activities, and it has been deemed necessary,"

"To not only rig the reaping, but take away her last comfort?" Snider struggled to not pummel the little weasel. He clenched and unfolded his hands, taking a deep breath, he stared into the rascals little eyes.

The man reddened, "Your accusation that the reaping is rigged is complete nonsense. This country is founded on principles of equality and justice."

Snider rolled his eyes, turning away from the official, "Equality and justice," he exhaled quietly before saying more loudly, "Than I will visit the tribute."

"Sir, no visitors are permitted," The weasel interjected, but Snider glared at him.

"I'm not a visitor, I'm her mentor, and I will go chat with the girl."

He stepped past, making his way down the gloomy corridor. Raquel glanced up from her seat, "That's a bit more rowdy than you usually get, Snider. You surprise me."

He shook his head at his fellow mentor, "Sometimes the system destroys any pretense of cooperation."

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Snider stepped into the small visiting area. The girl stood, her face pressed against the window. She turned, taking him in as he stood in front of her.

"I'm not going to sugar coat, your family isn't allowed to see you." Snider gauged her reaction, watching her lips open and close.

"Why? it's not even my fault." She brushed at her red eyes. "I didn't know anything. Really, nothing."

"I understand, Sadira." Snider placed a hand on her shoulder, "But Be glad you aren't forced to watch your dad be punished."

Her face paled, "I guess I should be happy to get the chance to die." Looking into his eyes, she asked, "Will they kill my whole family?"

He shrugged, "I honestly don't know."

She turned away, her face steely. Snider hesitated, before choosing his words carefully, "Don't write yourself off. You can still choose to live."

Sadira's eyes scorned his words, "Nice try, but I can sense when my life is up. The Capitol wants me dead, and unlike my dad I've never stood up for anything. Why should I fight them now?"

* * *

 **Okay, hope you like all that! Now for business. Someone sent in the male tribute for District 7, but I can't find it. If you can, please resend that in. I'll wait one week before putting another one in.**

 **Still waiting on a male for 12. Since Oliver's creator has not resent his in, I'll take a new one.**

 **I feel way disorganized, and I do apologize. This summer and semester has been difficult. Hope you guys will keep sticking with me**


	10. Nerves Unfold

**District Nine Departing**

Alena wanted to stop her ears. But somewhere inside of her she knew that was simply another form of suicide. Instead she kept her hands at her side, allowing the crowd's screams to pierce her eardrums.

She looked at her toes, carefully stepping down the steps. Did she have to look at this freak show? Again, her conscience forced her to mover her gaze up. She touched her cheeks, mentally forcing herself to smile.

The crowd pressed against the roped barrier, hands reaching towards the tributes. Alena raised her right arm, gingerly wiggling her fingers. She tossed her head, swiveling to glance on both sides.

"Alena!" Someone in the crowd screamed. Alena swallowed forcing contact with the owner of the voice. His blue hair, and orange eyes made her stomach churn. She dipped her head, scurrying towards the tribute center.

She stepped under the arched door, glad that the crowd was now looking at her district partner. Rust looked nervous, his forehead shining. Alena touched her face, relieved that she had remained composed.

Peacekeepers stood on guard, but Alena found it fascinating that the area was fairly empty. The escort mentioned she had to greet someone, but weren't they supposed to get prepped right now?

Rust approached the portico, breathing a heavy sigh once the doors closed behind them. He ran a hand through his hair, "Wasn't that awfully scary?"

Alena stared at him, unwilling to chat. She turned, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger, "Some people just overreact to everything."

She glanced at him, noticing his Adam's apple wobbling. "It's too bad my district partner is such a pansy. He might have made a good ally. Oh, I forgot, he's a creepy joke."

Swallowing, Rust focused on ignoring Alena's comments. He couldn't remember seeing her too much at school. Knowing he hadn't run into her much, he hoped she didn't care about the nasty stuff other kids called him.  
Again, he had been wrong.

The escort swept in, her long cape trailing her. "I just finished visiting with your stylist, I've given them both marvelous ideas. Isn't this so exciting?"  
"Sure," Alena drawled, hands resting on her hips, "Another year of bread rolls, eh?"

"Now, now," the escort batted her hands in the air, "Do try to have a more positive outlook. Rust, you must try to appear happier, wider smiles win the games. That is my slogan, always has been."

"And how many of your tributes won?" Alena muttered, before speaking up, "So, can we go ahead and,"

"Yes!" Clapping her hands, she commanded, "Follow me, we'll walk right on over to the prep stations."

 **District 10 Arrival**

The blurring images began to clear as the train slowed. Virginia tried to not gawk, but it was simply so fascinating. The sun glimmered in the east, casting the Capitol in a reflective shine.

"Isn't is simply awe-mazing?" The escort giggled, "Every time we come out of the tunnel, I am truly awe-struck."

Virginia eyes didn't stray from the window. She pressed her fingers to the glass, her blue eyes soaking in the city.

The escort shook her head, "You two need to learn to chatter, Levi you are simply too morose."

Levi looked up from his glass of milk, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," She laughed, a high pitched squeal that made Virginia wince, "I simply hope you try to smile and appeal to the crowds,"

As if on cue, the train was suddenly surrounded by feisty citizens. Virginia's nose wrinkled as the pressed against the train.  
Shuddering she stepped away, "What do they want?"

The escort laid a hand on her shoulder, "Oh my dear, you! Tributes are the Capitol's inspiration, you can become the next face of victory." Pressing a finger under Virginia's chin, she smiled, "Aren't you excited?"

Virginia pulled away, goosebumps running across her neck, "I don't want to become the next face of anything."

The escort sighed, her lips drooping slightly, "Now, dearies, you two really should develop a more positive attitude."

She sashayed to the table, leaning over Levi's shoulder, "You are writing?"

Levi shifted, "It's nothing really, just some scribblings."

"Let me see," She picked up the paper, pausing to scan it's contents, then reading aloud,

 _"Pitch, the hues of grey,_

 _Swirling mass, stinking clay_

 _Low it flies, the vague abyss_

 _Home of Hades, feel loneliness._

 _Opaque, fixed long and last_

 _Inert Lifeless, set on past;_

 _Surrounding, cutting off from air_

 _Stinging, drowning in its lair._

 _Keen; it sings its wailing song,_

 _The shadows, thus do prolong_

 _Clock chiming, ring the bell;_

 _Fast behold! Descent to Hell."_

Waving the paper around, the escort beamed, "Oh, you are such a poet! Imagine what a victor's talent that would be! Think of all the books you could sell! I simply can't wait to see how you'll do." Bending down, she kissed his head.

Levi's face reddened, "I'm not a poet, I just scribble down stuff,"

Virginia interrupted, "Are we about to get out of this thing?" She waved her hand to the door, "We've stopped moving, I was just thinking, you know, what's next?"

"Of course, Virginia dear," she pressed a hand to her cheek, "We depart the train at exactly 2 o'clock. Looking down at her wrists, "that's only 7 minutes away! I need to go put on my hat!"

Virginia rolled her eyes as the escort hopped away, sending a cynical glance towards her district partner.

"Thanks for that," Levi spoke, hesitating, "you know, for changing the subject."

A shrug of the shoulder, "No prob. Her voice was making me sick anyway."

* * *

 **Tribute Center, Second Floor**

Loki nodded as the tributes entered the dining room. The girl pointed her toes, drawing the eyes to her spiked boots. "Everyone at the tribute parade should be terrified. By the time that cannon sounds, the entire country is going to know I mean business."

"Such insight," Loki's lips curled, but his eyes remained neutral, "Alex, that is what you prefer?" A quick nod, "Aggression can be impressive but it can scare some sponsors away entirely."

Alex folder her arms, while Felix settled unto the futon. "I think you two will make an agreeable team," Loki caught each of their gaze, "I do hope you don't plan on going into the arena lone ranger style."

"That's what killed that idiot last year," Alex snorted, "I'm not that stupid."

Felix shifted, "He had to have made some enemies to have been excluded from the traditional alliance, right?" He leaned forward, hands cupping his chin.

The boy was a thinker, what luck. "Unfortunately, it was his own choice. Not something I recommend, but you make your bed, you lie in it."

"He was really that foolish?" Felix sat back, shaking his head, "To reject the traditional alliance? No wonder they picked him off."

"It's not that big a deal, Felix. He's dead, why waste our time talking about him?" Alex picked up a chocolate muffin as she spoke, rolling her eyes at ehr partner.

Felix sent a cold glance her way, "Because you can learn from the past."

"Not when they're complete idiots." She shrugged, flopping unto the duvet, her pitch raising an octave, "Can we please talk about something more interesting?"

"Have you watched any recaps?" Rhea spoke as she strode into the room, "Loki loves strategy, but sometimes it's knowing the peeps that wins the day." The two kids glanced up, both wondering how she had come in so quietly.

Loki slid over, allowing room for Rhea to settle beside him, "What do you think of the stylist choice this time around?"  
A slight lift of the eyebrows, just enough to say, 'Since when have we cared about that?' but still answering aloud, "Oh, just business as usual."

"Mine won't be business as usual," Alex muttered over her muffin, earning a sharp look from Rhea.

Rhea pulled her short hair behind her ears, "Back to my question, what do you guys think of the others?"

"The guy from one looks nice, you know, well-muscled, and capable." Felix spoke with a note of assurance, "And we have a guy volunteer from Four, I'm sure he's adept."

"Sure, Mr. Wave and Smile at the camera's," Alex smirked, "He's a prig, we can get rid of him quick." She tapped her foot impatiently, toying with the cuff of her hoodie.

Felix glanced Loki and Rhea's direction, eyebrows lifted slightly. Loki picked up his wine glass, sipping the ginger taste. He swallowed, while Rhea rolled her eyes at him. "Tell me, Felix, why are you so quick to write Bjorn as adept?"  
Felix's eyes narrowed, slightly irritated that his assessment should be picked at, "I just don't think we should,"  
Loki spoke over the boy, "And Miss Alex, you seem terribly quick to dismiss your possible future ally as a prig."

Loki glared into the girl's face, setting the glass down, "Judging personalities from a screen is pure stupidity. Ability, as Felix, has noted can easily be assessed. Though, it can sometimes be cleverly disguised."

* * *

 _ **I'm excited about these characters, I really enjoyed thinking of their interactions. I hope it was a delight to read, as well!**_

 _ **What do you think of the poem? :-) First one of mine I've put online...**_


	11. A Broken Cord

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was a nice break to be able to write after the rush of midterms.**_

 **District 11 Train**

Roran Dale flexed his hand, studying his veins. Did he need more water? He pinched his wrist, listening to his heartbeat. It was hard to believe he was actually on this train. He laid back, resting his head on the pillow. As his eyes closed, he recalled his last meeting with his father.

 _His eyes had been dark, full of pride. "What you do today, your choice will change Panem. Because of you, we may be one day be free."_

 _His younger brother has wrapped his arms around his legs, but Roran attempted to ignore him. "Dad, I know I can do this."_

 _A hand placed on his shoulder, "You must be the light; we are sure you won't let us down."_

Roran rolled his neck, stretching his shoulders. It was so comical the escort's reaction when he had volunteered. The pale face of the reaped kid had been enormously funny. The whole district had been taken aback. Except for the ones who knew, of course.

When Roran mounted the stage, he easily spotted the faces of his father's friends. Their resolve filled him with a pride. For himself or them he wasn't sure. The escort had rambled on about clapping for him, and a few on the district started to as well.

But the men, standing along the front of the crowd, they raised their hands in salute instead. The few who were clapping had been momentarily confused, and while half the crowd started to salute, the rest shifted in awkward silence. A few older ones glanced fearfully towards the peacekeepers, but they stood as usual, faces devoid of expression.

Roran opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. He knew his father and friends were placing a great deal of hope on him. They were the ones who had taught him to use a knife, to wrestle a man to the ground, to filter water, and make himself a victor.

He knew their reasons. He was glad for the training. He wanted victory just as desperately as any of them.

Standing, Roran wondered about the girl. He wasn't sure if he had met her before, but it would be nice to know before the games started. Pulling on his shoes, he headed down the hall, stopping to knock on her door.

Silence. She must have gone to supper. He continued on, peeking in different cars. Not in the dining hall, or the entertainment lounge. Was there another place?

Maybe she had ignored his knock. A servant passed him, then stopped. "Are you looking for something?"

Roran eyed him, speaking without thinking. "You're not an Avox?"

The man blanched, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, Nothing. I'm just checking where the girl went."

"If you mean your fellow tribute, she's in the observation deck." He dipped his head before stepping away.

Roran mentally slapped himself. His dad had said all the Capitol servants couldn't speak, they had been turned into something called Avoxes. But he shouldn't know that information; he was just a kid from District 11. It had just surprised him the guy could talk.

* * *

Robin Newman played with the hem of her dress, absently staring out the window. The servant had brought in a plate covered in delicacies, but she wasn't particularly hungry. She looked behind her as the boy stepped into the room.

"Nice view," he nodded, "Totally black."

Robin shrugged, "It's not garish in here. The closest thing to home."

Roran looked around, noting how simple the deck was compared to the rest of the train. "Suppose you're right. Sorry you miss home."

"You want to be in these games."

Her blunt words hung in the air. He cleared his throat, "I felt sorry for the kid, he was young, sometimes,"

Robin smiled, "You are a terrible liar. Those guys, they knew you were going to volunteer. Remember, I saw them refuse to clap even before she asked. This was all planned."

"You always jump to conclusions?"

Robin tightened her ponytail. "I was standing there, and I kept thinking, he wants to go kill people. They want him to kill. And you know what," Her voice lowered, head moving forward, "That is sick. We aren't the Careers and you, you just betrayed our district."

* * *

 **District Twelve Train**

Snider braced himself as he approached Raquel. Best to be as lighthearted as possible.

"I hear the clam chowder is really good this year." The words hardly left his mouth, when a glass shattered behind him.

"And you get the girl! I have to deal with that already dead kid! Why am I stuck with a loser again?" She raved, pulling at her hair, "You always get what you want." Picking up a book, she whirled it at his head.

Snider ducked, "I've brought home a tribute, I get dibs." A snarl flew from her lips, "That's the way it is, I'm sorry you don't care for Oliver."

"He's dead Snider, he'll never make it ten feet!" Her angry countenance melted as tears spilled over, "Why do we have to do this to these kids?"

Snider gingerly touched her shoulder, "It's painful, I know. But you need to pull it together for the kids' sake."

Raquel straightened, "I'm sorry Snider, sometimes," she breathed in, rubbing her neck, "I'm going to go see him."

Snider brushed his hand through his hair as Raquel left. He would have to page the hostess. Food was smashed on the wall, glass crunched underneath his shoes.

Raquel knocked on the boy's door, opening it after a long pause. "You doing okay, Oliver?" She peeked in, spotting the kid. He was perfectly fine looking, except for his disfigured mouth. The escort had called it a cleft lip. "I'm just going to come in and talk to you."

Closing the door behind her, Raquel struggled to smile, "I'm going to be the one helping you. I really want the best for you, and I need you to cooperate as much as you can."

"I thow," The boy spoke, his voice surprisingly calm.

Raquel closed her eyes, "I'm really, really sorry. I need to ask you some questions, answer as best as you can, ok?"

A nod. "I'm guessing your mouth," She gestured towards his face, "It messes up your voice."

Oliver nodded, as Raquel continued, "And you're an orphan, right?"

"Wight."

Raquel's face pinched, and she rubbed her forehead. Oliver looked at her, "Ith's thine. I thow whath I am. Thon'th theel bath."

Raquel swallowed, "Just try to see if you can learn anything, and make yourself invisible. If they don't notice you, they won't kill you."

 **The Capitol ~ Tribute Center**

Silk turned in front of the mirror, her dress shimmering as it clung to her skin.  
"You will look like a piece of the sun itself emerging from the darkened ruins of the earth." The designer half whispered, "A ray of light in our dark existence."

"But isn't the tribute parade dark? How will this catch the light?" Silk pulled at the neckline, lowering it a tad.

"Oh, my dear, each of these sequins is equipped with a tiny lightbulb. As the air grows darker, they will begin to shine even brighter." He touched his nails together, "You will simply steal all of our breath."

Silk tossed her hair, "Anyway I can show this to my team tonight?"

The stylist's face clouded, "Ah, no, mon cher'. It is a delight reserved only for the parade tomorrow. I just needed to do a fitting tonight. You should go ahead and step out of it now."

Reluctantly, Silk stepped down from the stool. His fingers pulled at the zipper releasing the tight hold the fabric held on her body. Silk stepped from the dress, reaching for her jeans.

"So you think I need to wear a bra with that dress?" She asked as she laced up her boots.

The stylist's brows knit. "It was not in my plan, at least not for the parade." He hung the dress in a bag, gently storing it along the wall, "You wish to advertise yourself in that way?"

Silk pulled her hair back from her face, "Of course. I'm not stuck in my parents' house anymore." Her mom would have a panic attack if she ever tried anything like this at home. She could almost hear her screaming that her daughter would never look like some half naked whore.

It was a pity she wouldn't get to see their reaction tomorrow night. Pulling on her leather jacket, she started for the door, "I can go, right?"

"Of course, my beauty. Be sure to sleep and not allow yourself to be exerted in any way," the nasally voice trailed her as she headed to her apartment.

Radiance met her at the door, concern etching her face. "You didn't tell us where you went, we were worried,"

Silk rolled her eyes, "Why are you such a hen these days, Rad? You used to be so fun, now you're all serious. Don't tell me you didn't sneak off last year too."

"It's just late, and we didn't know." Radiance tried to smile brightly, "You like the stylist choice?"

A grin, "It's brilliant. People thought you looked nice, wait till they see me." She raised an eyebrow, waiting for a cutting retort.

But there was none. Radiance nodded, before stepping away. Silk crossed her arms, "Why do you act so dead. You were so much more fun, before you volunteered."

Radiance sighed, stopping only momentarily, "It's late, Silk. Go get some sleep."

"You should have let me do the Games without you. You didn't need to win to prove you're better than me." Silk spat the words, "You want me to die, right? You want to prove that you're a better tribute, huh?"

"Shut up, Silk," Radiance whirled, her fists clenched, "I want you to live. But I told you not to volunteer because only one person makes it out of these games. Now it's 3:30 in the morning, and if you don't stop running off and start listening to Odyssey and me, you're going home in a casket."

Before Silk could even think to respond, Radiance was gone, her door slamming behind her. Crossing her arms, Silk headed to her room. She was better than Rad. Wait till the Games, she would get more kills than Rad had even thought was possible.

* * *

 **Capitol ~ District 7 Apartments**

Riley pressed her face against the window, trying not to become too awed by the sight. The building she was in, the tribute center, towered over the city around it. Riley felt if she was to lean forward even a little bit, she would topple out. Falling to her death seemed a better option than a spear sticking her in the back.

"Riley," a voice floated towards her, "We need to get you to the remake center." Minnie, her mentor came up behind her, "You made a good impression when we left the train this morning, but we have plenty of work to do this afternoon."

Riley turned slightly, "Has everyone left the trains?"

Minnie shook her head, "It's only 9 o'clock. District 12 doesn't pull in until close to noon. Eleven tends to arrive around 10."

Minnie placed a hand on her shoulder, "Come on now, we need you to see your stylist, and get all prepared for tonight."

"We're going to be trees, why does it even matter?"

Minnie chuckled, "It all matters very much, every choice is a move, a decision to live or die. Come on, we need to get down there."

Riley silently followed, trying not to gape at her lavish surroundings. They walked through a hall lined with mirrors, and Riley stopped, tilting her head.

"The Capitol likes to feed our vanity." Minnie gestured, "This week you'll see yourself in ways you wouldn't have ever imagined."

A nod, and Riley continued to follow. They stopped in front of an elevator, and from around the corner came her district partner and the male mentor.  
Riley studied the boy, her eyebrows furrowed.

He looked her over, "I might look familiar because my twin sister is in your class." He grinned, "Except she hasn't gotten a broken nose in a fight."

"I'm still thinking," She bit her lip, "Charlotte maybe?"  
"Yep, Char and I are twins." He grinned, "You're good. Did someone already tell you?"

Riley felt her face growing red, "Why would someone have told me? I can figure stuff out on my own. Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

He raised his hands, as the elevator pinged, "Hold on, it was just a question."

Minnie glanced at Cedar as they stepped into the elevator. As usual, her partner's face was a mask. His eyelids drooped, making him look asleep on his feet. Minnie sighed, wishing he would be the one to speak to the kids.

"Riley, Demetri, No reason to already be arguing. No one meant to insult the other." She smiled at each of them, silently willing for them to cooperate.

Demetri smiled back, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make anyone mad."

Riley crossed her arms, "I won't get mad if he doesn't insult me." She turned her head, her voice low, "If he does, I'll save it for a couple of days, then butcher him in the arena."

Demetri's face clouded, "What's wrong with you?"

Cedar spoke for the first time, "Quiet, Demetri. If she doesn't want to ally, no use prying."

The elevator slowed to a halt, doors opening. Several people were waiting to board, but Cedar waved them aside. Demetri followed, but not before turning to give Riley a slight scowl.

Minnie led the girl, waiting till they were away from elevator, "He didn't intend to insult you. It's best to try to get along."

A shake of the head, "I never get along with anyone, Minnie. Especially guys."

* * *

 **Don't be shy, tell me what you think!**

 **1) Who do you want to make the best impression at the parade?**

 **2) Guesses on the arena?**

 **3) Only one tribute I haven't introduced... can you tell me who? If you do, your tribute will get featured in the next chapter!**

 **4) As always, I love to hear your opinions on the tributes!**


	12. Heavy Lies the Head

**_Two weeks of thought here, so hope you enjoy!_**

 **Presidential Mansion**

He clicked the button, and the screen disappeared. "I don't like that Lafayette. Not one bit." President Theopholis Snow pressed his back against his chair. The Head Gamemaker squirmed uncomfortably, while his assistant Gemini Heavensbee placidly sipped her tea.

"That young man is brazen, and trying to stir up trouble." He thumped his knuckles on the mahogany desk. "What did you two think when you saw that?"

Lafayette glanced his cohort's direction, "I can't speak for Gemini sir, but to me, it seemed unusual for District 11."

Gemini rolled her eyes, setting the porcelain cup down, "It more than seems, Lafayette. It is unusual, in fact, I would say, dangerous."

"Quite right," Snow nodded, "I'm sure my Grandfather would know exactly what to do with that tribute." He scratched his chin, "He must die, but not as a martyr."

"Gemini can make sure of that, sir." Lafayette knit his fingers together, "We both know our duties."

Snow was bored with Lafayette's nervous banter. At least Gemini possessed some of that Heavensbee calm. He couldn't recall Plutarch ever be the least bit ruffled. His eyes shifted to her, "Does your uncle still watch the reapings?"

"With difficulty, he has gone almost entirely blind. Still as quick as ever, he picks up on things even my eyes don't ever see."

"Lafayette, don't you have a planning meeting on the mutts? I can chat with Gemini for a few minutes longer." Snow waved his hand dismissively.

His back stiffened, "Sir, I need Gemini at the meeting, she is my head assistant."

"I told you to go, I need to speak to Gemini." Rarely did the President raise his voice, the sound now sent goosebumps down Lafayette's arms. He rose, stiffly bowing.

As the door closed behind him, the President looked Gemini in the eyes, "Could Lafayette be involved in some sort of nefarious plot? He is acting a bit strangely."

Gemini's eyebrows furrowed, the hazel pupils darkening. "That is highly improbable. Everything he does is for his own gain. Assisting some sort of rebel group is not in his nature."

"Your uncle weeded out that traitorous Seneca Crane for my grandfather, and then managed to still the closest brush we've had with rebellion. You have that same quality, that uncanny sixth sense."

"Why, thank you sir." Geminis lips curved upward, "From my earliest memories, I was raised to make every decision with the good of my country in mind." A truthful answer, it all depended on whose definition of good you used.

A sigh escaped the President, "Gemini, I am determined that I will not be the Snow that brings this country down. My Grandfather's uncle built this country from his bare hands, then Coriolanus watered it with his own life. How many times was I told that my mistakes could kill everything we worked so hard to create?" He rose, face tense with frustration.

Gemini continued to watch him, choosing to remain silent.

Snow's voice grew in anxiety, "The Games last year, even the city breathes with discontent. The districts are all on the verge of anarchy. What happened in Seven is not an isolated incident. My advisors warn me that even the Peacekeepers in Two are restless. I just don't understand." He cradled his head in his hands, shoulders slightly shaking.

"What sort of advice are you getting?"

He shrugged, "Tougher enforcement. Clamp down harder. But you saw the peacekeepers in eleven. They had no desire to confront that crowd."

"I see." Silence stretched for a moment. "I think some are asking for a choice. They want a say in the government."

"Exactly!" He clenched his fist, "But this government is not a democracy, they aren't any choices for anyone. The Capitol exists to make choices for everyone. At least, the aristocracy of the Capitol."

"That's understandable. Our desire is to simply exercise control, and the peoples wish to have a choice."

The President began to pace, "My advisors are all as incoherent as I am. I have them to give me ideas, not repeat everything we've doing the last 100 years."

He turned her direction, "Here I am blubbering. Do you have any suggestion?"

"Well," Gemini tilted her head, "You mentioned that people are clamoring for a choice. Why don't you hold elections? You handpick the candidates, unknown to the people, and the districts can then vote on representatives to the Capitol."

The President clasped his hands behind his back. "Intriguing. But how to implement such a thing?"

"It could be an anniversary thing, we've had Panem of peace for 100 years, why not reward the districts with a gift of an election?"

He stopped pacing, "And when should we hold the election?"

Gemini shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe announce it at the victor's crowning? Then hold it during the victory tour?"

* * *

 **Tribute Center**

Heath stepped from the dressing room, pleased with his costume. The gold thread was practically see through, emphasizing his muscles.  
"Nice get up," His fellow tribute spoke behind him.

"Thanks," he flexed his arm, "Think I'll appear menacing enough?" He glanced at his muscles, a satisfied grin lighting his face.

"Absolutely, every girl would kill for a guy like you." Silk's voice was gratingly sweet.

Heath straightened, his lips settling into a disdainful curl, "Not particularly wanting girls to kill for me. I am wanting every dog out there to know I am the boss."

Silk's fingers lightly brushed his shoulder, "Glad to know you're not interested in these Capitol girls, they are disgusting. Compared to me, at least."

He stepped away from her touch, "Not interested in you, either. I have a much better girl waiting for me at home."

Heath barely glanced behind him as he walked away. He heard her indignant snort, enjoying the sound. Girls like her were just a bit too much to handle.

"Heath," Odyssey beckoned him, and he trotted towards his mentor, "You doing alright? Like your parade outfit?"

"It's the best. I'm thinking I'll win over the crowd, and scare the daylights out of the others." He pointed to his chest, "This thing makes me look like straight muscle. Which is completely true, of course."

Odyssey smiled, amused by Heath's enthusiasm, ruthless as it was. "Our stylist definitely didn't let us down. Glad you like it."

"Really with him and you as my mentor, this should be smooth sailing." Heath fell into step beside Odyssey, "I'm really excited about training, and the interviews. District One is going to have a victor two years in a row."

"Keep up the positivity." Odyssey continued quickly, "But, I am warning you, that I don't like the Career pack this year. It feels more open to dangerous hubris."

Heath shrugged, "Yeah, Silk thinks she's a demi-god. But I'm not worried. I can put her in her place."

"Go mingle around the other chariots, meet the other tributes. Get a feel for your allies."

Heath grinned, "It'll be my pleasure."

* * *

Blair fingered her hair, hoping her face looked confident. Bjorn hadn't yet appeared, and she wondered if she should stick close to the chariot. At the front of the line, a guy was strutting. He kept flexing his arm, every so often glancing around to see if anyone noticed.

He turned her direction, but she was too far away to read his expression. He paused, before deliberately walking towards her. Blair touched her hair, making sure it all laid as it was supposed to.

The boy came closer, his outfit catching the light. It was pretty dazzling, though a bit strange for a guy to wear.

"A District 4 mermaid, huh?" He crossed his arms, lips curling slightly.

Blair knew her cheeks were red, "It's hard to break stereotypes. You look impressive."

"I know." He tapped his foot, "Where's your partner?"

"He's getting ready, I think. Where's yours?"

"Silk? Probably pouting. What's your name?"  
"Blair." She twisted her fingers together, "Are you two friends?"

"Silk and me?" He chuckled, "Hardly. I have a girl back home, I think that's a blow to her self-esteem."

Blair nodded, "Your girl must be proud of you, volunteering and all."

His blue eyes softened, "Yeah, she is."

"Already making allies," Bjorn spoke from behind them, "We can at least rely on your charm to win our friends, eh?"

Heath turned, "So quickly assuming we'll be allies?"

Bjorn tipped his chin, "Why else would you be standing by my chariot?"

Heath glanced at Blair, before meeting Bjorn's eyes. "Touché. Your wit better not come at my expense again." With a parting smirk, he headed back towards his district's position.

Bjorn leaned against the gold enameling, "You don't strike me as the type to flirt."

"I wasn't." Blair lifted her face, "A girl can just get to know people without ulterior motives."

"Right." Bjorn's laughter was harsh, "Perhaps a girl, Blair. But not a tribute for these games."

* * *

"Just ignore everyone." Ruby placed a hand on Peltier's shoulder, "Let's just step into the chariot." His thin frame shook beneath her grasp.

"Focus straight ahead, don't look at them." Again, she whispered, "Everything will be fine."

"You kids think you can walk right past me?" Ruby pulled short as a voice taunted them. She tightened her grip, lips pressed into a thin line.

The girl stepped towards them, "So what district are you brats from?"  
Ruby sucked in a breath, "We're from Three." She couldn't keep her eyes from shifting towards the voice.

The figure stepped closer. "Are you another bloodbath?"

Ruby felt her face burning, but she turned, looking the girl face on, "Are you sure you're not a bloodbath?"

"You #$* " Her lips curled, "Your cannon will be first." She turned, heels clicking as she stomped off.

Ruby uncurled her fists, frustrated with herself. The girl had daggers woven into her hair, why did she have to push her buttons?

Peltier looked into her face, eyes sympathetic. "It's okay buddy. She'll get over it." But as she watched the girl climb into the District Two chariot, her assurance felt even hollower.

* * *

Nylon stepped to Tricollete's side, "You shouldn't stare at them."  
She jumped, her back bumping into the horse. It was a good thing the creature was well trained, "What? You scared me."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to." Nylon rubbed his fingers together, "But as I was saying, you shouldn't stare at them."

Tricolette stepped away from the horse, "And why not?"  
"Because," He laid a hand on her shoulder, "They make you even more scared."  
Her face crumpled, and she swiped at her nose, "They're so big, and mean. Nylon, they want to kill me." Tears dripped across her cheeks, voice rising slightly, "What did I ever do to them?"

"Nothing," he smiled sympathetically, "You are a ton better than them. Believe me."

"Thank you." She glanced down at her feet. "You're not wearing shoes either?"

"No, our stylists are plotting together."

"At least it's better than last year. That quilt compilation was hideous." She shivered, recalling how embarrassed the entire district had been watching the parade.

Nylon nodded. Although he didn't quite appreciate the fact that both of their outfits were made of sheer fabric, he did like that it was at least flattering. Tricolette had golden strips of linen woven into her hair, which hung loose down her back. The stylist had tied a strip tightly around his arms, saying it accentuated his muscles, while his hair had been sprayed golden. The sheer fabric wrapped around their frames, toga style. Not a bad deal.

* * *

Alena scooted as far away from her partner as possible. "It's sick we have to ride in the same chariot."

Rust swallowed, "Guess you could ask to walk."

She rolled her eyes, "And this stupid, stupid costume. Come on, do we have to covered in corn?"

"It looks like its growing. Like we can grow into victors."

"Oh, wise one. Thank you." Alena placed a hand on her waist, "Tell me, which of us is going to win these games?"

Rust's eyebrows furrowed, "I don't know. I hope it's me, but it's not like I planned to fight these people."

"Exactly," Alena smirked, "I know and you do not. I know I can, perhaps will be the victor."

"Look, Alena. As much as you dislike me,"

"Now, that's an understatement."

Rust's voice grew louder, "You can't know that 'you are the victor'. You tempt fate by simply saying that."

Alena again rolled her eyes, "I don't care what you think, so just leave me alone."

* * *

Levi stepped into the chariot, wondering how uncomfortable this ride would be. His shoulder might start to ache with the horns the stylist had weighed him down with. She said they were supposed to come from longhorns, but none of the cattle back in the district ever had anything like this.

His waist was circled with barbed wire, apparently to give him a menacing edge. Levi doubted it would work. No costume could make him look scary. It just wasn't in him. And all the barbed wire did was make him worry he would hurt himself.

Virginia walked up, her face clouded. Levi leaned forward, cautiously balancing the horns, "What do you think?"

She pointed to her head, "See my little horns? I look like a goat. At least you look like some sort of scary cow."

"At least it's not heavy."

She pulled herself into the chariot, "Heavy is the head that wears the crown."

Levi's eyebrows furrowed, "Never heard that. What do you mean?"

She smiled, chuckling, "It's something my dad says. It means a person of power has a lot of trouble. Assassinations, threats, decisions. Power really means trouble."

"Makes sense." Levi adjusted the horns, "So the Victor of the games has a lot of problems. Which is why I should deal with these stupid horns."

"Pretty much."

* * *

Roran played with the bridle, enjoying looking into the horses eyes. The creature intrigued him. Obviously powerful, yet allowing itself to be restrained.

It was interesting the horse didn't try to nibble at his get up. Roran hated it, he was covered in straw. Really, was the stylist totally out of creativity?

Roran sighed, dropping the bridle. In front of him, the District Ten tributes were bantering. He briefly wondered if they would work together in the arena. They might make it past the bloodbath if they did.

He glanced toward the last chariot. The boy hadn't come out, but the girl was walking to her place. He sauntered over, striving to be as casual as possible.

"Hello, mind if I stop in?"

She tilted her head, eyes moving up and down him. "You volunteered."

"Yeah, so." She stepped away from him, but he followed, "Why do you care?"  
"More tributes from my District are lost because of volunteers than reaped victims." She didn't even turn his way as she spoke.

"But hasn't your district gained victors by volunteering?"

Her voice grew sharp, "You don't know anything." She started to step into her chariot, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"Let go of me," She jerked, but he held firm.

"You look good in black," the color brought out the intensity of her blue eyes. "What's your name again?"

She stuck out her chin, "First one to die, maybe the seventh, oh, I don't know maybe she'll make it the final eight?"

He scowled, "What are you talking about?"  
Her glare grew intense, "Tributes don't have names; just betting numbers."

"To me you have a name." His fingers loosened, and she pulled her arm away, "Your stylist made you look pretty." His gaze swept down her long black dress, noting the way it sparkled when she moved.

"Anything's better than your stylist."

"True." He crossed his arms, "I'm not going to kill you in that arena. My name's Roran."  
"I know that. You would know my name if you paid any attention to the recaps."

His face pinched, "Sheesh. Are you always this catty?"

"Only when I'm in the Hunger Games."

"Fine, I can get a hint." He backed away, but halfway back to his chariot, he spoke over his shoulder, "But black cat, I really won't kill you in the arena."

Sadira ignored him as she pulled herself into the chariot. She pulled her arms across her chest, willing her face to remain clear. It was hard being mean.

"Good job girl." Sadira jumped as Raquel stepped into the chariot beside her, "Oliver is on his way, thought I would give you a little chat."

Sadira pulled at her hair nervously, "But you're not my mentor?"

Raquel chuckled, "I know which of you has a real chance kid."

"I don't have a chance."

"Act like that all the time, and you do."

"I can't."

"Then how come you just treated him that way?" Raquel put a finger under Sadira's chin, forcing her to look up, "Where did that come from? The entire ride, you were a mouse, but now a tomcat?"

"It's just the coal dust on my face. And he volunteered."

Raquel smiled, "Maybe we should keep coal dust smeared on your face all the time." She glanced away, "Here comes Oliver and the stylist." She slapped Sadira across the back before jumping out.

Raquel was disappointed they weren't wearing miner hats this year to help disguise Oliver's cleft. Obviously everyone had already seen it on national television, but no use rubbing it in again. But the stylists had other plans, and God forbid, she should interfere.

Picking Oliver up, Raquel set him in the chariot. She pulled the torches from the stylist, handing them to the kids. "Raise them as you enter the arena. Remember, you are Panem's light."

"You both look good," Snider spoke as he strolled up, "The crowd will like the torches, we've used similar stuff with lanterns before, but this is a nice twist."

Raquel smiled, slightly relieved, "You both are going to look amazing." As the music began to play, the two mentors stepped back.

"You don't think it looks too much like the 74th?" Raquel whispered.

Snider laughed, "Oh, no. They're nothing like that. The boy doesn't even come close and the girl is just, you know, nothing like… "

"She has a will, Snider. I saw it. She was sparring with the kid from Eleven. I think she might survive this. Even beat it."

* * *

 _ **Your favorite outfit so far? I know I haven't described too many, but creativity can be stretched thin. If you want more of that sort of thing, do tell me.**_


	13. Restless

_**Finally caught up enough to write. Several of my favorite people in my series are in this chapter. There are two scenes from the Capitol.**_

 **A Capitol Estate**

An avox poured another full glass of Bourbon as the guests toasted the year's games.

"Where does this come from again, District 9? Why can't they parade dressed as wine bottles?"  
Another less drunk guest explained, "It's actually grown in several of the districts, but processed just outside the Capitol."

"Who are you betting on so far?" The conversation swirled around the tribute parade, as bets were placed. A bell chimed midnight, and someone stood on a stool,

"Ladies and gentlemen, our Gamemakers are arriving as promised. Remember, they've only promised to be at our party for an hour before moving on to the next event."

Several Gamemakers entered, and the crowd surrounded them, pressing desired forms of bribes into their hands. The guests plied them with the names of their favorite tributes, hoping to deck the odds in their favor.

Gemini, as assistant Head Gamemaker was at the front of the pack, smiling graciously at the swarm of Capitolites. Of course, she accepted all the dozens of diamonds and sapphires pressed into her hands. And of course, she would do absolutely nothing to protect their favored tributes.

An avox handed her a glass of wine, but she set it on a nearby stand. This was how she survived this bevvy of parties, by completely avoiding alcohol. She needed a level head to navigate this world. And another dose of stimulants.

A young girl scooted besides her, hand pressing subtly against Gemini's left hand. "I'd be thankful if you take notice of the girl from 12." To anyone, it appeared as just another bribery exchange. The girl stepped away as quickly as she appeared, lost in the depth of the drunk partygoers.

Gemini smiled to herself, fingering the token. It was time to take a trip to her country estate.

 **District Six Compartments**

Lucina tugged at her gloves, stepping into the dining room. The smells assaulted her nose, and she enjoyed the flavors for a moment.

"Great job out there," Hadley stirred a spoon, "From the mentors booth you were lovely, a nice diversion."

"Yeah," Maxwell spoke from behind her as he entered, "I think the crowd adored us."

Lucina struggled to ignore him. He had humiliated her, why did he have to make this so much harder than it already was? She crunched the gloves in her fist, "I'm not hungry. I'm just gonna go to my room."

Hadley eyebrows furrowed, his eyes mirroring compassion. "You need to eat, my dear. Maybe your appetite has disappeared, I'll send some up to you later."

"See you." Maxwell's voice followed Lucina out. For his part, Maxwell settled at the table, perusing the dishes piled high with succulent delicacies.

He picked up a fork, cutting at a slice of lamb. Picking up a tureen, Maxwell poured on some of the steaming gravy.

"So, you plan to woo the crowd, lowering Lucina's defenses, then dispense with her as quickly as possible?"

The fork paused halfway to Maxwell's mouth. "Of course not."

Hadley's lips curved, dark blue eyes turning hard. "I've not lived 27 years to let some half grown up prick think he can outsmart everyone. Either you work with me or I make your life miserable."

"How can you just say that about me?" Maxwell's hand gripped his fork, "Why do you care about my methods?"

Hadley shrugged, "Just warning you, that not everyone was deceived by a kiss on the cheek. Lucky for you, Lucina didn't slap you."

Maxwell snorted, "Lucina doesn't have the guts to do anything."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

* * *

Lucina snuggled into the covers, munching on the strange white puffs the attendant had brought her. They were crunchy and kind of salty.  
A knock sounded on the door, and Lucina sighed loudly, "Not talking to you, Maxwell."

"It's not Maxwell, It's me Hadley."

Lucina pulled back the silky covers, hand smoothing down her hair, "Come on in." She rubbed her other hand on the bedspread, trying to get the oiliness off as her mentor stepped in.

"Enjoying the popcorn?" Hadley pulled up a chair, sitting directly in front of her.

Lucina nodded, "It's interesting. Never heard of it before."

"Thought a light snack might work the best."

Lucina's tongue brushed at her teeth, trying to get rid of the hulls stuck in her gums. "I'm sorry I walked out like that, I know it may seem like I'm a failure of a tribute."

Hadley shook his head, "You are not a failure,"

"Of course I am," Lucina interrupted, "I can dress well, but that's about it."  
Hadley cracked his knuckles, "I think you can do more than that."

"Like what?" Lucina rolled her eyes.

"Like outsmart Maxwell." He cocked an eyebrow.

Lucina jerked, wondering if was making fun of her. "Your kidding, right?"

"No, I know he's playing to the crowd. We both know he plans on killing you as soon as possible.'

"He hates me," Lucina blurted, her frustration overwhelming her as tears threatened.

"Which is why you should turn his act against him."  
She rubbed at her eyes, the mascara smudging, "What do you mean?"  
"Maxwell is trying to earn the crowds empathy by playing up a relationship. But if you get the crowd on your side as opposed to his, he can't turn on you without dire results."

Lucina's hands knit together, "Play the crowd against Maxwell?"

Hadley snapped his fingers, "Exactly. Now we have just a few hours to get the perfect plan together."

* * *

 **District 2 Compartment**

"Can you believe that brat from Three dared to threaten me?" Alex fussed as the group gathered around the table. "I can't wait to cut off her head. But first I'll chop of her limbs one by one. Then pull out her tongue. Make her eat her own words."

Loki sipped some hard cider, "I take it you enjoy a good sword."

Alex snorted, "Who doesn't? The arena's blades are bound to be the best. I've had to practice with these stupid cheap stuff all my life."

Felix turned slightly towards his partner, "I would try not to obsess over the girl. It'll ruin your peace of mind."

"Why would I care about peace of mind?" Alex shot him a short glare, "Anyway, you can't have peace with people like that girl around."

Felix smiled sympathetically. "There will always be people hurting your feelings. What's important is to stand above them."

"You stand above them by killing them. Not real hard to understand, Felix."

Loki chuckled, "We all have different ways of dealing with tough relationships. There is merit in both of your ideas."

Felix nodded at his mentor, wondering if Alex had ever let a slight offense go unnoticed. But right now, he had other things that needed attention. "What are your thoughts on this year's alliance?"

Loki glanced at Rhea, who was battling the flu and wasn't much help right now. "Rhea and I have put some thought to it. I think things are relatively normal."

Alex licked her fork, "Think we'll lead the pack this year? I'm tired of the dogs from One outshining us."

Felix felt his frustration growing, "People don't outshine each other. It's only when you choose to not do your best that another appears better."

"Seriously Felix," Alex slapped the table, "They killed both of our tributes last year. They are lying sneaks. It's too bad Radiance can't go into the arena and face me."

"Hold on," Loki leaned forward, "If you expect to emerge from this arena as a victor, you absolutely must treat each and every victor with utmost respect."

Alex scowled, anger for Odile's death filling her. "There's no way. She killed my best friend last year."

Loki shrugged, "Then you won't be getting my help."

"But you'll help me," Alex turned to face Rhea, appealing to the second mentor.

Rhea took a long drink of water, "I completely agree with Loki. I don't care how you treat people in the games, but you can't threaten another victor."

Felix shifted uncomfortably. "Mind if I go on to my room? I want to be really prepared for tomorrow."

Loki waved his hand, "Goodnight. I'll speak with you more in the morning."

Alex pressed her hands together, "If I become a victor,"

"Listen, you can't plan on that. I don't want to hear about your revenge status again." Loki stood, throwing his napkin down. "I suggest you go to bed as well."

* * *

 **District Nine Compartments**

Alena laid the knife on the sink, pulling her hair down from a bun. She had snuck the blade from the dining table. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, green eyes, pointed chin, long straight brown hair.

"Won't be needing this." She grabbed a handful, then started sawing. Away from her face, she didn't want to accidentally nick herself. Letting go, she dropped the hair into the trashcan.

Another handful, more cutting. Shorter, choppier. She set down the knife, touching her bare neck.

Someone knocked on the door. Alena stepped from the bathroom, flipping off the light switch.

The escort began rambling as she opened her door, "I'm waking everyone up by 9," A slight pause, then a change in pitch, "What have you done to your hair!"  
Alena leaned against the door frame, "Why do you care?"  
The escort waved her hands, jewelry clanging together, "It's all gone! Your crowning beauty, what is to be done!"  
Alena closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a breath.

"What's the matter?" Rust spoke as he opened his door.

"Her hair, she ruined her hair!" The escort continued to screech, "I need to contact your stylist right now."

The escort scurried off, crying about calling the stylist while Alena let out a sigh. "No big deal, creep. Go back to bed."

Alena turned, pressing the door shut. But Rust had stepped out, blocking it from closing. "I'm not a creep."  
"No, you're a jerk who insists on not letting me close my door."  
He rolled his eyes. "If that's your definition of a jerk. But seriously, I like your haircut."  
"Right," Alena let go of the door, folding her arms across her chest. She fingered the fabric, "I don't want to get close to someone only to watch them die. I'm not a mean person, but we're not going to be friends."

* * *

 **District Five Compartments**

Larret tossed, the pillow falling to the floor. The room was so quiet, it was like a weight of calm. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to push thoughts of tomorrow away. Everyone was just so big, and mean. What in the world was she supposed to do?

She sat up, her fingers searching for the switch. She pushed up, shielding her eyes. It was the bright one, she flipped it down, pushing on the next switch. The room was now dusted with light.

A pair of slippers sat on the floor, a robe resting on the chair. Larret fumbled for them, it was nice to have everything you could ever imagine needing right at your fingertips.

Opening her door, Larret slipped into the hallway. She was curious what was playing on tv. She tiptoed, hoping not to wake anyone up. She was pretty sure the media area was far enough away no one would hear it.

She turned the corner, surprised to see the screen was already on. Josu sat curled on a couch, head resting on his knees. He turned slightly as Larret stepped in.

"You woke up?"  
Larret shrugged, "No, I couldn't even go to sleep."

"Yeah, you got a lot of sleep on the train." Josu settled back into staring at the screen.

Larret felt her frustration grow at the boy's comment. The only reason she had gotten so much sleep on the train was because the doctor had _put_ her to sleep. "Are they saying anything about us?"

"Us in particular?" Josu glanced her direction.

"Duh, anything about us at the parade?" She plopped on the couch beside him.

Josu shook his head, "No, we aren't even on the betting charts. These guys aren't the main people who comment on tributes."  
"So Hadrian isn't on?"

"You mean the guy who partners with Augustus Flickerman?"  
"Yeah, he's like, the cutest guy ever."  
"Nah, he's not on."

Larret frowned, "Don't you think he's cute?"  
"I'm not a girl." Josu muttered, "And I don't tend to watch the capitol shows if I don't have to. I didn't even know his name."

"He is the cutest." Larret smiled, remembering conversations with her girlfriends. "And he's single. One of the Capitol magazines rated him in the top ten most eligible young guys. If I win these games, I bet he would date me."

* * *

 **Capitol Apartment**

Hadrian pulled his blinds, grateful he could block out the glaring city lights. He fluffed his pillow, before pulling off his shirt. Running his hand through his hair, he leaned against the fleece sheets.

It was a relief to turn off his bed side lamp, and attempt to forget about the day's events. Forcing himself to be bright, smile, and engage an audience wore on his chest.

He rubbed at his eyes, realizing he hadn't taken the mascara off. He was bone weary, but he couldn't rest knowing his makeup was still on.

Slipping from the sheets, he made his way in the darkened apartment to his vanity. Pulling a cloth down, he ran some water over it. The coolness against his face was refreshing. _What a relief._ He was glad that he could take his celebrity cover off each night. That's why he resisted the pressure to get a tattoo or piercings. He wanted to be able to pull the veneer off.

He heard the buzz as he tried to settle back into his bed. _Close your eyes._ Ignore it, but then it might be his boss. Duty ruled, and he picked up the tablet. Never mind that it was 2:30 in the morning, Augustus has messaged him.

"Mentor interview tomorrow 10:30. Studio prep 9:45."

 _Why me?_ Hadrian nearly slammed his fist into the screen. One on one interviewing was bad enough. But with the President's request, he knew he would have to file an intelligence report. Hadrian didn't dare breath his frustration out loud, he was sure the apartment was bugged.

Touching the screen he typed back, "Which one?"

He closed his eyes, resting his lids till Augustus answered. The tablet buzzed, and he checked.

"Found a girl?" Hadrian nearly swore at the captioned photo of Gemini and him. The message was from some tabloid, hoping for a comment on a photo they had taken of his recent dinner with the Gamemaker.

He blocked the number, ignoring the message.  
Another buzz, "Annora, possibly w/ Rad."

Finally an answer. "Thanks. Silencing messaging for the night. See you tomorrow."  
Hadrian pressed send, waiting for the reply. Once it came in, then he could press the magic switch.

"Ok. What if Gemini messages and u'r sleeping ;-)"

Hadrian grinned, still pressing the silence. Gemini wasn't a girlfriend yet. Until then, he would enjoy the freedom to block her calls.

* * *

 _ **Training starts tomorrow! So excited =) Here's some questions:**_

 _ **1) What question would you want Hadrian to ask Annora and Radiance?**_

 _ **2) Should Hadrian and Gemini be an item? (My favorite two characters =)**_

 _ **3) Who are your favorite characters in the entire series. Any tribute (dead or alive), Capitolite, mentor**_

 _ **4) Your new years' resolution? Mine... to save more money and write more often =)**_

 _ **Silly questions, but it is midnight!**_


	14. Thin Lines

_**Another update~Enjoy!**_

 **Heavensbee Estate ~ Dawn**

Her silver heels crunched the loose gravel as Gemini stepped from her hybrid. Swinging the door shut, she surveyed the Heavensbee mountain estate. Located just five miles from Capitol Checkpoint, it was the perfect escape from the city. She pressed her government pass into her coat pocket, the magic ticket that allowed her access in and out of any district in the country.

The golden sun was just now peeking above the eastern mountains, the long night shadows retreating from the daybreak. The purple mountain lilacs were also in full bloom, wreathing the circular driveway with their exuberant color and fragrant perfume.

A servant stepped towards her, offering to take any bags. "I didn't bring any bags with me today, Vance. I'll only be here a very short while."

The porter nodded, "Would you care for us to set up breakfast for you, Madam?"

Gemini smiled, "Thank you, but no. I just need to take a walk around the estate. The training starts today, and the fresh air will clear my head. Tell the staff that I won't be needing anything."

The porter bowed as Gemini strode past him. The Heavensbee servants were legendary for their faithfulness. Most had served the family since before the dark days, in fact the Heavensbees were the only Capitol elite to not employ Avoxes.

Gemini strode through the arched stone entrance to the family gardens. Trumpet vines clung to the stones, and Gemini smiled as the small flowers opened to the sun's first rays. However there was not spare time to dawdle. She continued walking, in search of her favorite plants, the bleeding hearts.

The man stood exactly as she had been told, back leaning against the stone wall.

"You enjoy the Lamprocapnos spectabilis?"

His brow furrowed, dark eyes studying her, "Excuse me?"

"Scientific name for the bleeding hearts." Gemini now stood directly in front of him, "Welcome to my estate."

He bit his lip, "My superiors told me you were young, but you hardly appear old enough to wear lipstick."

"And does anyone in your district even wear lipstick?"

"Touché.'" He tugged at his cuff links. "I am trained in espionage. While the rest of my people were forbidden to ever glance towards Capitol made products, I have spent my life mastering in all things Capitol."

Gemini shrugged, choosing to ignore the insults. It was clear from his dress and manners he had enjoyed studying "all things Capitol". "Why don't we walk about the grounds?" She began to take a step away.

He paused, catching her elbow, "But won't your staff talk?"

She shrugged off his touch, "Of course not. They are the picture of discretion. Anyway, they all think I am trying to become the next Head Gamemaker, and will simply assume you are piece in that plot."

The gravel crunched as they paced. "You don't even know my name."  
Gemini chuckled, "Not necessary. Starting today you have a new identity, Malcolm Reverie."

"Malcolm Reverie." He spoke as though tasting the words. "Nice ring to it. Not so much if you add my military title, but then."

"Oh, shush." Gemini hated his district's pride. It wouldn't have hurt if the Capitol had truly destroyed them all. "I've spent months gathering the paperwork for you. It's a nearly impossible task."

"How so?"

"First, identity cards, national data cards. The data cards are kept sealed in the national registry. One copy for every civilian. Attempts at duplication failed. Three of our district people tried to enter the Capitol with duplicates."

A pause. Gemini took a breath.

"They just tried?" The man pressed.

"They died, Malcolm." Her tone was flat, and she avoided his eyes. "The Cards are never duplicated. Kept on computer record, checked at every entrance and exit, train station, hotel check in, everything, the ID's are scanned. The doubles were discovered, and three good people ended up dead. Because I didn't know the details of how the registry worked."

"And they didn't betray the organization? Surely they were tortured." His voice was laced with surprise.

Gemini felt her face heat, "Of course not. We are all committed to this cause, even to each of our deaths."  
He shrugged, "It's taken long enough for you guys to start on it. I don't know how your districts have allowed these games to keep going for over a 100 years."

"Did they have to send you?" Gemini fought to control her anger, "Or did they accidentally pick the most stupid person I've ever met?"

He straightened, "Forgive me. Our district has never attempted to disguise our contempt for the rest of this country. I simply forgot that it would matter to you."

Gemini's eyes hardened, "We didn't meet to exchange opinions." She dug into her pocket, retrieving a thin cylinder. "Here is your identity. If you make it past security when entering the Captitol, _and I do mean if_ , we'll meet at the tribute center café at this time next Friday?"

A dip of his head, as he took the precious item from her fingers, "My thanks, Madame Gamemaker."

* * *

 **District Four Compartment~ Breakfast  
**

Bjorn chugged on the orange juice, not bothering to pour some into an actual glass. Blair glanced his direction, he could see her embarrassment for his table manners. "You think anyone cares how we eat?"

"You should care." Blair fidgeted with her napkin, "Even if no one saw me, I wouldn't want to be rude."

Bjorn shrugged as Annora and Ripley walked into the area. "Good morning," Ripley picked up a plate, "Hope you got your beauty sleep."

"Thank you, I'm sure I did." Bjorn ate a slice of sausage.

"Blair," Annora seated herself across from the girl, "Are you interested in joining the career alliance?"  
"I'm not interested in her being on the team. And I know I'm in the career pack." Bjorn chuckled, "She's not trained, so isn't of much use to us."

"The guy from One talked to me, not you last night. I think Heath and the other's want me in the alliance." Blair gazed at Bjorn, daring him to contradict her.

"Sure, babe. As long as you step in the arena just wearing sea shells, then all the guys will want you."

"Enough," Annora set her glass down. "Bjorn, I didn't ask for your opinion. Next time you give it without my request, you will regret it."

"I'd listen to Annora, Kid." Ripley chuckled as he stirred his coffee. "She can be pretty mean."

"Blair, don't judge the alliance based on one guy. Today, get the feel of the other tributes, then tell me what you're thinking after training tonight."

Blair looked at her cinnamon rolls, "Can we see you at lunch?"

"Sorry," Annora smiled sympathetically, "I have a whole list of appointments and meetings. I won't be back until evening."

"What in the world are you doing? Partying all day?" Bjorn muttered.

"Excuse me?" Annora spoke as Ripley whistled low.

Bjorn shrugged, "That's what you guys do right? Rub shoulders all day with Capitol elite?"

Annora leaped, grabbing Bjorn's ear, "It's a good think Ripley's in charge of getting you sponsors," Annora whispered fiercely, while Bjorn struggled to free himself. "Because I'm not going to life a finger to help you."

* * *

 **District Three Compartment**

Bernard crossed his arms, the girl was just too stubborn. "Leave the boy be. Go out there, show off your skills and develop your own strategy."

Ruby straightened her back, "My strategy involves Peltier. I don't abandon my district."

"You're not abandoning anything. You're simply giving your district the best chance it has at a victor." He placed a hand on the wall, "Trust me on this."

"You haven't brought home a tribute in 20 years, and you're asking me to trust you?" Ruby shook her head, "I'm sticking with my ally."

She stepped away, deciding to go check on Peltier. Bernard sighed, "I'm asking you to make a smart decision not just trust me."

She stopped, pulling at her blonde hair, "I'm really sorry if you think I'm making a bad choice. But I have to do what I feel is right."

Ruby walked down the hallway, carefully opening Peltier's door. "Hey, we need to head up to training soon." She looked over her shoulder, but Bernard wasn't following. It irked her that he refused to help her at all unless she followed his strategy.

The boy turned from his bedside table, nodding and giving her a crooked grin. Picking up a paper he handed it to her,  
"Thanks for helping me. You are a very nice person."

Ruby smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Peltier. I'm not going to leave you by yourself."  
He nodded. She squeezed his shoulder, "Time for us to head down. We have a lot to learn."

* * *

 **Training Floor**

Silk stepped into the training center, eagerly scanning the racks of weapons. The lights glittered off her favorite weapons. She took a step towards the racks of knifes and daggers, but a voice stopped her.  
"Tributes are to remain on the welcome mats until orientation is complete."

A glance towards the voice. A woman with jet black hair, silver sharp eyes. "Who are you? Why are you bossing me around?"

A faint trace of a smile crossed the woman's stony features. "All tributes are expected to remain on the receiving mats until orientation."

A roll of her eyes, "And why should I do that?"  
The woman lifted an eyebrow. "All tributes are to remain on the receiving mats until orientation is complete."

"I came down here twenty stinking minutes early so I can get a handle on what I have to work with." Silk tapped her foot, hand on her hip. "And I'm not going to waste my time." Another glance towards the woman. Still as stiff as a statue. Would she even move to stop her?

The door opened as some other tributes stepped in. The woman's attention was temporarily diverted, as she gave welcoming instructions. Silk stepped across the mat, striding towards the rack of knives.

The woman snapped her fingers at the peacekeepers. Silk was reaching for a knife when the peacekeepers fingers gripped her arms. She yanked, "What are you doing?"

But he didn't let go, and the woman spoke, a touch of weariness in her voice. "All tributes are to remain on the welcoming mats until orientation is concluded."

* * *

Tricolette and Nylon walked through the training room doors together. Over half of the tributes were already present, gathering in clusters around an athletic looking woman who stood at the front, not speaking to any of the tributes.

"Who is she?" Tricolette whispered to her partner.

"I don't know. I don't think I've seen her on tv or anything."

A tribute near them chuckled, "That my dear playmates, is the guardian of this world, Regina. Apparently she tells you clueless idiots what a sword is."

Tricolette was trembling, and Nylon laid a hand on her shoulder. "I appreciate that information. And who are you?" It felt rude not to ask.

The boy turned to face them, lips curling, "Why I'm your soon to be killer." Tricolette gasped, and Nylon's loose fist curled, but the boy continued. "The masses will remember my name as Heath General of District One."

"Nice to meet you." Nylon attempted to be as civil as possible.

Heath shrugged, "Nice of you to meet me. Not that I want to know your names. You'll both soon be dead anyway."

Nylon turned Tricolette away, leading her in the opposite direction, "Just ignore what he said. He's not a prophet."

She rubbed at her eyes, "But he's so sure of himself. What if he's right?"

Nylon had no idea what to say. He opened his lips, but no words came. Could the announcer lady start talking, save the moment please? He looked over at her, but she didn't indicate she was about to start. Behind her he could see the rows, racks, walls mounted with weapons. But what was that? His eyes squinted, it looked like paint.

"Look," He raised his hand, leading her eyes to a table. "It appears they have paint, you like to paint, right?"  
Her eyebrows furrowed, lips puckering, "Why would they have paint?" She leaned towards the direction he pointed, "I think you're right. What do you think it's for?"  
"Maybe camouflage?"

"But you don't use paint in the arena. You have to use wild berries and leaves. It's silly for them to teach camouflage with paint."

"Attention Tributes," The woman in the center spoke, and Nylon and Tricolette turned. "Welcome to the 101st Games Training. You will have three days to learn the basics of the arts of survival, and the skills of combat."  
Several of the bigger tributes clapped when the woman said the word combat.

She held up a hand, "You should remember that survival skills are just as important, if not more vital than actual combat in the arena. 40% of you will die from exposure. It is wise to split your time equally among all the learning stations we offer."

She scanned the gathered teenagers, her eyes glinting, "This floor has rules which are expected to be obeyed. There is to be no fighting among the tributes. You are only allowed to train from Ten Hundred to Seventeen hundred hours. You will respect the equipment, trainers, and our observers. Any questions?"

A thin dark haired girl raised her hand, "When do we get to eat?" The girl from Two guffawed, "They're called the Hunger Games for a reason, shrimp.

The woman didn't even blink. "Food will be served from twelve hundred to Thirteen hundred. Any others?"

"Can we leave the floor?"

"Tributes are to remain in the training floor at all training hours, unless specific permission is given to leave. Anything else?"

Other than shuffling feet, the air was silent. The woman nodded, "Very well. You may begin your training. May the odds be ever in your favor."

Hadrian settled back into the studio chair. An artist was dusting Radiance's face, Annora had already been done. The woman stepped back, "There you go dear, all set for the cameras."

"Thank you both for coming on today, I know it's really early in the morning."

Annora chuckled, "If it weren't with you, it would be with someone else. And honestly, you are the one personality I actually like."

Hadrian swallowed, "That means a lot to me, it really does. And Radiance, you don't have to do this interview if you don't want to."

The girl forced a smile, "You're too kind. I'll try to be the proper mentor for you."

"Is this airing line?"

"Sorry, Annora. Augustus insisted." Hadrian fidgeted with his watch, wishing he could fast forward and get this over with. "I hate live just as much as any of you."

"But the big boss loves the exciting stuff that you can't edit, huh?" Annora sighed. "Rad and I will do our best."

"Did you write the questions?" Radiance pressed.

He licked his lips, "Well, I thought, I mean, I was, but then, and you know."

"They handed you a list of questions." Annora's voice was flat.

He nodded, miserable. Annora knew she could press him. "Just don't ask them."

"What?"

"Everyone loves you, you're not getting fired. Ask what you know the country needs to hear."  
"Live in 15."

"15 seconds." Hadrian swiped at his brow. The notepad with Augustus typed questions quivered in his hand. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat.

"Live in 5, 4,3,2,1. And we're on."

Music rang in his ears. "Good morning, Panem." He worked at his muscles, forcing a smile. "I'm sure you all are interested on what the mentors have to say about this year's games."  
The paper said _"this year's tributes"_. He had already deviated. He smiled, "Today we have put together some questions, I'm sure that we have all wondered from time to time."

Not at all what the notes instricted. "We have an exclusive opportunity to chat with Annora, mentor for District Four and Radiance, mentor for District One."

He looked their way, their eyes meeting. They trusted him.

"Radiance, your district has a volunteer this year. Did you by chance grow up with her, know her before your own games?"

Radiance knew this was not a pre-approved question. "Why, yes. I do know Silk. I considered her my best friend."

"You considered her a best friend, something changed after your victory?"  
"It affected our relationship. I didn't want to see her go through what happened to me."

Hadrian saw the pain of last year's games reflected in her eyes. "That makes sense. You advised her not to volunteer?"  
"I did." Radiance pulled at the hem of her sleeve, "I just hope she doesn't end up regretting her decision."

"For your sake, and hers, I hope so as well."

* * *

In the back, Hadrian's assistant knew something had gone wrong. "What is he doing?" The audio technician glanced his way, "Problem sir?"

He nodded, rubbing his chin, "This is messed up, why is asking this junk?" Where was Augustus. Something needed to be done.  
He turned, opening the studio door. He stomped to Flickerman's door, swinging it open. "Augustus, what kind of questions did you give Hadrian?"

Flickerman glanced up from his breakfast, surprise etched on his features, "Standard stuff. What kind of arena are they hoping for, what year to year differences they expect: that sort of thing."

"That's not what's going on. He is off, way off."  
Augustus face paled, "I need to be in there?"  
The assistant shrugged, "I think you definitely need to see."

* * *

"It must be easier mentoring kids after helping them train in your district?" The question was directed to Annora.

She laughed, a humorless sound. "Absolutely not. I'm training them, but I know most of the time it doesn't end up doing any good."  
"Surely, it's somewhat helpful. They know how to fight and defend themselves, leaving them better prepared for the games."

"No," Annora rolled her eyes, "Nothing really prepares you for the Games. In fact, most of the time the kids are too confident and they don't even think they need our help when we go to mentor them."

"You're suggesting not to have training?"

"Yes, I know it seems harsh. But we don't want to give our kids a false hope. And from my experience that's exactly what the training centers are."

* * *

 _What was Hadrian thinking?_ Augustus needed to pull the plug. He grabbed the visual technician, "Go to commercial break, **NOW**."

The man nodded, speaking in Hadrian's earpiece. _"Commercial break in, 10,9,8_."

"Some great answers today. A short break coming up, but we'll be back right after this."

The lights dimmed as the commercials came on. Augustus began to step behind the camera, turning to yell at the manager, "Make that the longest commercial break in history!"

"What are you doing? Where are my questions? Are you insane?!"  
Hadrian swallowed, "They get asked every year, I thought the audience deserved something better."

"You thought, bananas," Augustus rubbed his face, "Hadrian that was just dangerous. Look, I will take the fall. Any, questions, I wrote them. I'm sending a message to PR right off. It'll be better coming from me."

"But," Hadrian started, before Augustus raised a hand.

"Don't, just don't. At the end of this break patch it up." He sighed, facing the mentors, "I'm sorry, but there was some issues. Broadcast should go smoothly after this."

* * *

 _ **Favorite scene and why?**_

 _ **What's one question that you have, you would like me to resolve/answer in the next chapter.**_

 _ **Is staying up till midnight new year's eve a waste of time?**_


	15. A Rose by Any Other Name

_**I know it's been a while. February/January was so busy. I was in a play and working on a presidential campaign. Way too busy, and taking 18 credits! :-D**_

 _ **Day one of Training**_

The blade felt heavy, uncomfortable in her hands. Sadira fingered the metal, watching the instructor.

"These are throwing knives," He launched one, the blade sinking into the dummy's chest. "They are highly effective in the arena. Especially useful in close combat."

Sadira nodded as the instructor continued, "Hold the knife between your thumb and forefinger." He placed a hand on her wrist, "Very good. Feel alright?"

"Of course," Sadira swallowed, "Can I throw it now?"

"No, find the right stance first," placing a hand on her shoulders, he twisted Sadira into position, "Left foot forward, right slightly back."

Sadira tensed, while the instructor continued, "Very good. Try throwing from a short distance," he nodded at where Sadira stood, "Keep your arm steady, and throw from your wrist."

Sadira hoped no one was observing her. She stared at the target, carefully placing her body in the correct alignment. Taking a deep breath, she attempted the first shot.

The knife clattered to the metal floor. "Don't worry, you'll improve over time. And loosen up a bit, no reason to give yourself a headache."

The trainer handed her a second knife.

Sadira carefully gripped the blade, once more following his instructions. The knife landed at the dummy's feet.

"Try putting a little more strength into the throw. Don't be afraid to use your weight."

Another knife. Sadira made certain her body was exactly as he told her. She threw harder, and the knife bounced off the dummy's torso.

The trainer smiled, "Very good, a little bit more force and it will stick."

Sadira's stomach was tight, "Thanks. I can just keep practicing right?"

"Absolutely, I will always be available if you should ever need assistance."

Sadira picked up another knife while the trainer spoke to a boy who had walked up. She hated the fact that she was actually learning how to kill someone. She let the knife go, it bounced off the dummy's shoulder.

"The trainer dude told you were something." A voice spoke behind her. Sadira glanced over her shoulder as the voice continued, "But you're really nothing."

Sadira felt her heart rate accelerate. Who was this girl to say something like that? "What makes you my judge?

The girl rolled her eyes, snorting. "Are you too dumb to know your fellow competitors?"

Sadira's palms were beginning to sweat. Her brain wracked for information. How was she supposed to remember all 23 names? "I know you'er from one of the Capitol's lapdog."

"What?" The girl stepped closer, "What are you calling me?"

The girl was close enough to practically tower over Sadira. Sadira was tempted to just walk away. This girl reminded her so much of the peacekeepers who had accosted her dad. Her dad might have been helpless but Sadira planned to not be vulnerable.

"I'm calling you the truth." Sadira swallowed, "I'm going to die. I'll not going to face death by lying to myself."

"At least, you're honest enough to know that you're dead meat." The girl chuckled, reaching for a knife. She studied it for a short moment, before throwing it at the dummy. It stuck into the neck.  
She grinned and winked at Sadira before strolling away.

* * *

Felix ignored Alex for as long as possible. She stood just to the left of the training mat, arms folded, impatiently tapping her foot. After Felix successfully countered another punch from the trainer, Alex spoke up, "I'm not here just to watch you sweat. Can't you take a break?"

Felix frowned, "Sure, but why?" He jumped away from the trainer, stepping off the mat. "Why aren't you learning anything?"  
"Learning?" Alex snorted. "This place doesn't have anything for me. I already know everything about winning these games."

Felix shrugged, itching to get back to the training mat. "Ok. So why are we talking now?"  
"Hey!" The two turned to see Heath strolling over, "I was going to chat with you guys."

Alex's face loosened, her scowl softening, "Good to see you. Decided anything about these minions?"

He chuckled, pointing a finger across the room. "There's these two dunces. One of 'em is disfigured and the other can't talk."  
"Isn't the ugly one from Twelve?" Alex pointed to the skeletal boy. The kid was studying plants, his face partly obscured by the hoodie he was wearing.

Heath nodded, "Pretty sure. So skinny he already looks dead. Don't they have a fairly young female tribute too?"  
"I think so," Felix spoke for the first time, tired of the conversation. "What about our own alliance? Who all is included?"  
"That girl from twelve is so full of herself. She called me a Capitol Lapdog." Alex's words were practically hissed. "I'm going to eliminate her at the start."

Heath and Alex dissolved into sardonic laughter. Felix glanced around, not finding any humor in the situation.

Heath rubbed his hand through his hair. "Silk's been chatting with the tributes from Four. It sounds like we have an epic team this year."

Alex's nose puckered, "But the girl? She doesn't feel like one of us."

"Have you gotten to know her?" Felix questioned, "I mean, you've only seen her on TV. And what does it mean to feel like on of us?"

"I thought she was pretty nice." Heath shrugged, "Kind of reminded me of my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Alex's green eyes widened, "You have a girlfriend?"

"Yep," Heath looked a bit proud, "I'm going to win these games for my babe."

"Gross," Alex muttered, "I still think the girl from Four is a dud. Which is why your girlfriend probably didn't volunteer."

Heath's face darkened. "What exactly are you saying?"

"If I had a boyfriend, I would join him in the arena." Alex placed a hand on her hip, enjoying the two inches of height she had over Heath. "Why didn't yours? Afraid to die with you?"  
"We want to have a family together. We're not a killing team." Heath stepped towards her, his voice barely suppressing his anger. "No guy I know would trust you enough to even date you."

"Not true." Alex seethed, "No guy is worth my time anyway. Especially one that's such a brainless hulk."

"Come on," Felix attempted to speak, "We're a team guys, let's not start out like this."

Heath looked into Felix's face. He took a deep breath, "You seem like a good guy. I like you. But," his eyes briefly cut back to Alex's face. "Your partner is testing me. She's way out of her league."

* * *

Josu knew there were several tributes around his age. He didn't want to bother or run into one of the older tributes, so he stuck to the less popular stations. Sure enough, all the younger kids were over here.

"Ever started a fire before?" He spoke to the boy who was blowing at a crumpled pile of leaves.

The boy looked his direction. "It's harder than it looks on TV."  
Josu sighed, "Everything looks easy on TV."

"Except the games." The boy straightened his spine from his scrunched position, "I give up. It was hurting my back anyway."

"You think you'll need it in the arena?"  
"I don't know what I'll need." He looked towards Josu for a moment, "Have we met?"

"No, I'm Josu." He held out his hand. The trainer began to speak, but seeing the boys weren't listening turned his attention elsewhere.

The other boy took it, shaking it slightly, "Rust. Nice to meet you."  
"Are you going to try out weapons stuff?"

"After the Careers are done assessing their own greatness. Tomorrow afternoon maybe." Rust stayed seated beside his makeshift hearth while Josu stood beside him. The two fell silent, listening as sword clashed from the weapons area. The trainer was now speaking to a girl and boy who had just walked up to the station beside theirs.  
"You have older siblings or anything?" Rust asked Josu.

"No, I'm the oldest." Josu noticed his shoes had come untied. He sat on the ground beside Rust, working at the laces. The boots were a bit harder to work with than the tennis shoes he was used to wearing.

"I thought maybe that's why you wanted to chat with me. I don't have any siblings." Rust sighed.  
"You know where those two come from?" Josu inclined his head towards the two who were learning how to construct a shelter from branches.

"I think they're from Eight. Just cause their names have something to do with cloth." Rust fiddled with his pile of leaves, "Hopefully the arena's warm. Fire is nearly impossible to work with, and it gives your location away."

"Are you partnering with your district's other tribute?" Josu couldn't help but wonder.

Rust chuckled. "Nope. I think she dislikes me." Dislike was an understatement, but he didn't want to go into too many details.

Josu nodded. He needed to get on to other stations, try to learn some new stuff. This guy didn't seem too friendly.  
Standing, he cracked his knuckles. "Nice to meet you."

Rust nodded. Josu took a step away before he spoke. "Sorry, kid. I'm just a loner, not really ally material."

Josu lips curved, "Thanks for letting me know."

"But if we run into each other, promise I won't kill you."

* * *

Gemini couldn't follow the man's story. It was supposed to be some sort of funny tale, but with all his verbal tics the humor had dissolved into boredom. She leaned back in her seat, nodding at the chatter while her eyes scanned the tributes.e

Laughter erupted and Gemini joined in. She didn't care what they found funny but it was important to maintain appearances. She bit down on a lemon tart, enjoying the flavor. There was a slight lull in the conversation. Gemini swallowed.

"I don't like the girl from Two. She's agitating her potential alliance." Gemini swirled her wine, "That will work against her in the arena."

"Will you lower her scores because of that?" The questioner was speaking around the sausage roll he had stuffed in his mouth.

Gemini's nose wrinkled in distaste, but she stuck to her original topic, "Collaboration is key if you join an alliance."

"What about the kids from Eight? They haven't left each other's sides." A finger pointed to Nylon and Tricolette.

"That pair are goners." The same sausage stuffer was now speaking, he picked up a shrimp, sucking off the meat as he chattered, "Named after clothes and nonsense. They'll not last one day."

Gemini's brown eyes narrowed, "You seem relatively certain. Weren't you named after some sort of juice, Agave?"

Agave's face reddened, "I'm not fighting in these games, Gemini." He sputtered, wiping his oily fingers on his vest. "Our names don't judge our talents here in the Capitol."

"There have been several strangely named victors," Another voice commented, "The national gardens are named after that old one, what was her name?"  
"Mags." Gemini picked up her tablet, annoyed they had brought up Mags, "That was her name."

"She died back in the last quarter quell, right? Well, not the last one, but you know what I mean." Sounds of consent answered the statement. Gemini focused on the media messages. Hadrian was concerned about a live interview that didn't go exactly right. Gemini clicked on the transcripts, unable to focus on an audible recording.

"Mags lasted pretty long if I remember right. I mean, wasn't she like 100 years old?" The strident tones grated on Gemini's ears.  
"You must know," Someone spoke right in Gemini's ear, "You seem to remember everything about the Games."

Gemini's head lifted and her eyes glanced up from the tablet, "Mags was 84. She died two days into the 75th games. She was from District Four. The national memorial gardens were named in her honor after her previous victory, which was the 17th Games. Anything else you want to know?"

Someone whistled, "Told you Gemini Heavensbee knows everything there is to know about the Games."

Gemini scowled at the speaker, "If you ever decide to achieve anything, Cassius, you will also learn to know everything."

* * *

Alena swirled the liquid, enjoying watching the two liquids blend. The trainer nodded in approval. Alena was relieved that she had succeeded, "So, can this be used to kill someone?"

The trainer didn't look too surprised, "Medicines can be used for both benefit and harm. As a herbalist I hope you only use this skill to aid life."

Alena smiled, her eyes brightening, "Of course. But I want to be prepared for anything in the arena."

"Are you teaching poison stuff?" Silk spoke from behind Alena, "I didn't know you guys would teach this."

"Poison?" Alena turned towards Silk, "This is about first aid. One would have to be heartless to think something like that."

Silk studied Alena, "Really? I didn't know you learned to mix things in first aid class." She stepped to the table, picking up a bottle. "Iodine is relatively harmless. Unless you overdose." She chuckled.

Alena really wished Silk would walk away. She couldn't stand Silk looking over her shoulder. "You know something about poisons?"

Silk shrugged her shoulders, "Maybe. You're from District Nine, right?"

Alena nodded. Silk continued, "You're not hanging out with your district partner?"

"Why are you asking?" Alena bit her lip.

"Do you need a reason to be friendly?" Silk smiled, "Nice meeting you, sweetie." She patted Alena on the shoulder before strolling away.

* * *

Maxwell retied the knot. This is supposed to trap someone but Maxwell doubted it would do any good. Lucina stares at him from the other side of the table.

"You should stop pouting. We're stuck together."

Lucina rolled her eyes, elbows leaning on the tabletop. "Not my choice."

"You didn't speak up. It's your own fault we're stuck together" Maxwell tugged at the cord. "Looking better, don't you think?"

"I don't care." Lucina sighed. "Can we go look at something else?"

He set the bundle of ropes down. "Sure. How about edible plants?" He stepped beside her. They walked over to the station, but Maxwell stopped at the ropes course. "I want to speak to this guy, you go on."

"We're supposed to stay together." Lucina crossed her arms. "You've been telling me that all morning."  
A tribute or two glanced their way as Lucina's strident tones had caught their attention.

Maxwell's jaw tightened and he leaned in towards her. "Are you trying to mess with me?"  
She blinked her eyes, "I'm sorry, what?"

"I told you to go, now go and don't argue with me." He pushed her away from him. She stumbled, scowling at him.

He stepped away from her, eager to chat with someone whom he felt might match his own status. "Hey." He waved towards the ropes course. "You're Roran, right?"

The kid nodded, beginning to descend. "I don't know your name."

"Maxwell. You enjoy climbing?"  
"It's what I do best." Roran jumped to the ground. "When you work in an orchard, you climb for a living."

"Nice." They shook hands before Maxwell continued. "I saw you volunteered. Kind of admirable."

Roran stared at him. "Most people here don't view it in the same light. Unless," He lowered his voice, "They're from one of the lapdog districts."

"Lapdog?" Maxwell knew people hated the Careers but he hadn't heard anyone refer to them as that. At least not out loud.

Roran raised an eyebrow, "You know they feed from the Capitol's hands just to get a few treats from the bag."

"They've figured out the system." Maxwell shrugged, "I guess we are all kind of envious."

"Envious?" Roran shook his head, "Look at them." He waved towards the careers. They were tearing apart a dummy. "If it weren't for their stupid loyalty the last rebellion would have succeeded."

"Rebellion." The words came out in a whisper. "What do you know of that?"

Roran stepped closer, his hands on Maxwell's shoulder. "I know the Capitol has tried to extinguish the fire. But the flames are going to ignite again."

"What?" Maxwell pulled away, glancing around nervously, "Are you nuts? They're going to kill you in that arena." He took a step backward, "I'm not going to be destroyed with you."

Roran sighed in frustration as Maxwell trotted back over to his partner. Everyone was so lifeless. Didn't they also want to overthrow the Capitol?

* * *

 _ **Ok, that sums it up. Your favorite character highlighted today? Who'd you like to hear from next time?**_


	16. Unexpected Dawn

_**I know it's been forever... I do alot of writing, and apparently pulled some bones out of place. So my chiropractor said I couldn't write for a couple weeks. :-( It was terrible, but it really did hurt to type, so everything had to go on hold.**_

 **District One Apartment**

Silk pulled her legs into the couch, her fingers tapping her pad impatiently. Heath sat on the other end of the lounge, flipping channels. Capitol voices mixed with electronic music, the sounds grating on Silk's ears.

"Can you turn that off? I can't focus." She tilted her head slightly, hoping he'd listen to reason, "We can watch tv after we win."

Heath's lips curled, eyes glinting in amusement, "After I win, doll." He pressed on the remote, turning up the volume.

Silk sighed loudly, but Heath ignored her. She reached for a vase of flowers, plucking out the fake rosebuds. The TV continued to blare, Heath wasn't looking her direction, unable to hear Silk. She hurled the vase at his head, the glass shattering as it struck him.

Heath jumped up, howling in pain, "What the devil was that?" Glass littered the carpet, the shards embedded into Heath's hair, ear and face. He doubled over yelling, his fingers touching his bloodied ear

Radiance crossed the threshold, her forehead wrinkled, "What's the matter?"  
"She attacked me," Heath shouted, his fingers now red with blood. He was practically prancing, the pain unbearable.

Radiance sent Silk a sharp glance, but refused to get sidetracked. She pressed a button on the wall, summoning medical help.

Tears began to well up in Heath's eyes, his howling more incessant. Odyssey appeared, his face contorting in anger when he realized Silk had something to do with the mess.

Paramedics appeared, immediately sedating Heath and rushing him to the med unit. Odyssey followed, instructing Radiance to stay behind.

Radiance stepped around the chards of glass, reaching for the remote. The screen faded, the apartment settling into a chilling quiet.

"What were you thinking, Silk?" Radiance pulled at her blonde hair, nervously untying her neat braids. Her tone was sharp, "Are you trying to kill yourself?"  
Silk picked at her nails, rubbing at the golden polish still on from the tribute parade. "I couldn't concentrate. I didn't know it was going to hurt him that badly."

"It was glass," Radiance sighed, exasperated at the stupidity, "Couldn't you have just gone to another room?"

"I was in here first. Heath was being a pain, anyway."

Radiance decided it was useless to argue about it. "What were you working on?"

Silk held up the notepad, "I've listed the tributes we should eliminate first. Ones I think we all hate or are just easy to pick off."

"You don't think it's a bit early to already be putting that kind of list together?" Radiance leaned over the couch, reading the names.

Silk shook her head, "I need to get feedback from the rest of the alliance tomorrow morning. I know Alex hates the brat from 12, so I put her on the top."

"Why does it matter who Alex hates?" Radiance struggled with her words, "You need to only focus on the ones who will actually try to kill you."

"I need to be on Alex's good side." Silk brushed the suggestion off, "None of these tributes are going to try to kill me, I mean, they don't even know the first things about weapons."

* * *

 **District 11 Apartment**

Robin rubbed her wrists, wondering what she had done to hurt it. A servant began setting the table, savory smells filling the room.  
Bells tinkled as the escort walked into the room, her heels clicking as she approached the table, "How did training go, Robin?"  
Robin smiled, a bit taken aback by the escort's outfit. Her hair was braided into several twists, with bells hanging from ribbons. She wore several sets of silver earrings, the longest of the trio touching her bare neck.  
"I guess it was okay. My wrist is bothering me, I'm not sure what I did."

The escort's face wrinkled, "I hope it's nothing serious. But I have heard one's muscles need a chance to get used to using weapons." Roran stepped in as the escort was speaking, pulling out a chair.

The escort pulled out the chair next to him, "Tell me about your training, Roran."

"It was alright, I guess." Roran shrugged, "Kind of disappointed in some of the other tributes, but I'm learning a lot."

Robin sat across from the escort, pouring herself a cup of warm tea. She tuned out Roran as he continued to chat about what he'd learned.

"Make any friends, Robin?" Roran tapped the table with his fork, "Or are you going to ignore everyone else, too?"

She didn't even meet his gaze, "Not sure why you care. But it's not like I should become friends with the people trying to kill me next week."

The escort set her glass down, her voice chirpy, "Don't be so dismal, Robin. Remember that other tributes can be very beneficial as allies."

"I can help you out tomorrow if you want," Roran smiled, "I talked to a lot of people today, I can introduce you to a few of the better ones."

Robin's faced remained passive, her voice cold, "I can manage without you, Roran."

* * *

 **District 12 Apartment**

The kid was just playing with his food, his fork occasionally scraping the porcelain. Raquel set down her stemmed glass. "Oliver, you need to eat."

His eyes turned her direction, his slim shoulders shrugging. "I'm noth hungwey."  
"He didn't do anything today," Sadira spoke up, her voice tinged with concern. "He just sat there the entire time."

Raquel struggled to suppress a sigh. Snider tried to catch her attention but she ignored him. An avox started to remove an empty dish. She held up her hand, stopping the mute servant, "Oliver, see this Avox?"  
His head nodded, while Raquel continued, "He can't talk at all. Yet he continues to do his best to survive. At least you can talk."

Oliver didn't appear too impressed, "Sthill gointh to thie."

"You're small, Oliver. Haven't you realized you can hide out? Avoid enemies and make it to the end?" Raquel hoped her tone didn't reveal how desperate hew own idea was.

Snider cleared his throat, "Raquel," His tone held a bit of warning. She sent him a sharp glance.  
The avox still stood behind her chair, "You can go," Her grey eyes focused on Oliver. "You've made it this far in life, district life is no picnic. I imagine you're stronger than you think."

Oliver still hadn't taken a bite of food. He continued to push the mashed potatoes around on his plate, turning the creamy white pillars into mushy brown as he mixed in the gravy.

Snider noticed that Sadira shoulders were slumping, her eyelids drooping. Oliver looked half-asleep as well. "Ok, kids. Head on to bed, we'll talk more strategy in the morning."

Sadira suppressed a yawn, "Thanks, Snider. Goodnight, Oliver." She pushed back her chair, "You should listen to Raquel, at least try to live."

Oliver nodded, as he stood up. He crossed his arms, fingers pressing into his ribs. He hated to talk, he hated reminding everyone he was deformed.

Snider waited till both kid's doors were shut. "Raquel, why in the world did you bother that Avox? Are you trying to anger our boss?"  
She threw her napkin down, "I don't care. I was just trying to motivate him."

"Just let him be," Snider pulled out a cigarette, sticking it in-between his lips, "He's hopeless anyway."

She poured herself some brandy, "Thanks for the vote of confidence." She chugged a glass down, "Aren't you going to light that thing?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Have you ever seen me light?"

"No." She poured a third glass, her hands shaking as she drank from the almost empty bottle. "You're just too superior."

* * *

 **District 10 Compartments**

The sheets were so soft, the bed felt like she could bury herself into the mattress. Virginia collapsed into the comfort, trying to block out the awful reality of the day.

 _She was standing outside, the wind tangling her red hair. Her dad was right there, smiling at her. He held out his hands, a lamb looked into her eyes. Virginia felt herself smiling, she picked up the lamb, burying her nose into his face. The black eyes blinked at her, Virginia felt so loved._

 _Her mom's hands touched her shoulders, a voice asking if she loved the new pet. Her mom held out a ribbon with a bell, Virginia slipped the collar around the little lamb._  
 _Eunice was standing beside her; Virginia was so excited to show her the lamb. Eunice was smiling, her eyes bright, so happy. Her fingers moved as she signed a question, "What will you name him?"_

 _Virginia hugged the lamb, thinking of the perfect name. The lamb's nose touched her face, his voice crying into her ears. She opened her eyes, clutching the lamb closely. His face, the tv host, Augustus held out his arms._  
 _The command was clear, "Give me the lamb." Tears streamed down Virginia's face as she handed the lamb over. The lamb cried loudly as Augustus showed him to an audience. Capitol faces leared, laughing, pointing, screaming at her pet lamb. She tried to push her way to him, screaming for her lamb._  
 _Hands held her back, strong fingers digging into her arms. The lamb cried louder, his wails filling her head._  
 _Suddenly Augustus pulled out a knife, the metal glistening in the spotlight. The audience laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls. Virginia screamed, begging for her lamb._

The lights turned on, a voice calling her name, "Virginia, time to wake up," The escort pulled back the covers, "Good morning!"

Virginia blinked, rubbing at her crusty eyes. Tears still stained her cheeks, she shivered at the dream.

 **Presidential Mansion**

Hadrian settled into the padded chair, his stomach too tense to think of the food set before him. He glanced down at his watch, uncomfortable with the gold plating, his name etched on the back. It was a gift from Augustus, though Hadrian thought it was strange. He was always on time. He would be late today, however. This unexpected breakfast was wrecking havoc with his schedule. He glanced down again, it was a little after 7 am.

The president sat across from him, seasoning his eggs. Hadrian picked at some fruit, forcing himself to take a bite of kiwi. The tangy flavor bit at his lips, his throat seemed to close around the food.

"Interesting interview," The president commented, "For her first year, Radiance seems to have a lot of opinions."

Hadrian fiddled with the tablecloth, how should he respond? "Everyone has opinions, sir."

Snow nodded, "Of course, though I've experienced that most people's opinions are remarkably similar." He cut a sausage in half, "It's my understanding that we don't tend to ask the mentor's their opinions on live air."

What did the man want? Hadrian took a sip of water, the President spoke again, "Augustus tells me the interview was all his idea." His eyes met Hadrian's gaze, "But I have trouble believing that."

"I thought up most of the questions, sir." Hadrian knew Augustus would be furious he just admitted this, but he couldn't stand lying. Especially when it meant his boss would get in trouble.

Snow chuckled, "I figured as much, especially since I'm the one who asked you to question the victors. I'm guessing you couldn't find another way to dig up information?"

His lips were so dry, "Well, not exactly sir." He rubbed his fingers on the tablecloth, "But it was a very effective method to win their trust."

Snow leaned back in his chair, thinking through Hadrian's statement, "I suppose you're right. Now they think you're on their side." The President rubbed at his face, proud of the beard he was growing. His grandfather, Coriolanus Snow had a face full of hair by the age of 45. Theopholis snow was only 38, but he hoped to match his grandfather's record.

Hadrian could have breathed a sigh of relief. Instead, he nodded slowly. The president spoke again, "You had breakfast plans, before my men escorted you here. At least, that's what I've been told."

"Yes, sir." Hadrian pulled at a loose thread in the tablecloth, "But thank you for inviting me."

"You've hardly eaten anything." The president rang a bell, "I still think you have time to make it your commitment."

Hadrian stood, giving the president a slight bow. Guards escorted him from the mansion, leading him to a waiting limousine. Hadrian glanced at his watch as the car sped away from the mansion. Maybe his schedule wasn't as ruined as he had originally feared.

* * *

Gemini walked into victory center café, ignoring the paparazzi who trailed her. Camera's flashed, voices calling out questions. The waiters closed the glass doors, one pulling the blinds down. Several apologized for the lack of security. Gemini accepted their apologies, but she didn't really care. The paparazzi was just part of the price of life.

She scanned the café, smiling as she saw him. Hadrian sat at a corner booth, standing as she approached. His brown hair was curly, if slightly unruly. And Gemini thought his brown shirt could have used an iron.

"Morning," He smiled, his eyes betraying his utter weariness, "You like this table?"

She took his hand, leaning in to kiss him lightly on the cheek, "It's wonderful." They settled down, "You look awful, Hadrian. What's the matter?"

He placed his hands around the menu, "Just got some people breathing down my neck," He swallowed, "I'm not cut out for this type of career."  
"Nonsense," Gemini placed her fingers atop his hand, "Whoever it is, remember you're the best, Augustus is nothing without you."

"There's so much expectation," Hadrian sighed, his voice strained, "I can't do what they're wanting."

The waiter appeared, setting down a mug of coffee and a pitcher of orange juice. Gemini smiled up at him, "I'll have the mountain omelet, sauce on the side."

Hadrian glanced at the menu, "Um, the fruit parfait." He dropped the plastic as the waiter collected the menus. Gemini now held both his hands, her eyes searching his face.

"What are they wanting?" She massaged his tense fingers.

Hadrian leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper, "It's the President, he wants me to gather information."

Gemini's eyes widened, her grip on his hand tightening, "Oh, Hadrian." The words were hushed, suddenly serious, "You aren't giving him anything?"

He bit his lip, "I don't have anything. Besides, I have no clue how to work with the man."

"You should have come to me before," Gemini's tone was reproachful, "We'll need to work on this together."

Hadrian shook his head, pulling a hand free, "How can you help me? I mean, I don't want you to get hurt, and I need to deal with this. It is my problem. You shouldn't have to worry about this."  
They stared at one another for a long moment. The waiter appeared with their food; they began to eat. Hadrian's stomach was still tight, but the fruit soothed his agitation.

Gemini finally spoke, her voice quiet and tense, "We work together, Hadrian. Please, trust me on this one. I don't want anything to happen to you."

* * *

 **District Two Apartments**

Loki swirled his coffee, reading the messages from Annora. Another message popped up from Odyssey, updating them both. Alex and Felix walked into the room together, Felix silent as Alex rattled on about her plans for the day.

"The coffee here is so good," Alex picked up a mug, "I didn't expect coffee could change in flavor so much." Her voice grew accusatory as she spoke to the mentor, "Loki, you should have brought some of this back to the training center."

Felix pulled out a chair, loading a plate with some eggs. Loki waited till they both were seated, "I have some news from your District One allies."

Both of them looked up, surprise on their faces. Alex spoke first, "Do you normally hand out news the second day of training?"

"No," Loki chuckled, before swallowing down some coffee, "Heath and Silk apparently didn't agree on something last night. Silk threw a vase at him, and now the boy has lost his hearing in one of his ears."

"What the," Alex's eyes grew large, "How in the world?"  
"How did a vase deafen him?" Felix was slightly confused, "I'm assuming it just hit his head."

Loki nodded, "Yes, but it shattered. Some of the glass went into his ear canal."

Alex's lips pursed together, she let out a low gasp. Loki continued, "He must have pressed his hand against his ear, agitating the situation. It drove shards into the eardrum, destroying it."

Felix shook his head, still processing the news. "Can't they just do some surgery on him? Give him a fake eardrum or something?"

Loki sipped on his coffee, "Astute observation. But the Capitol doesn't want to waste money on a tribute who may die."

Alex shrugged, ready to move on, "Do we keep him in the alliance? I mean, he's going to be a handicap."

"It's not his fault," Felix replied, a bit upset, "We can't just kick him out."

"He doesn't even like me," Alex's tone grew a bit sharp, "He has some special girlfriend back home."

"That's no reason to throw him out," Felix pushed his plate away, "We have to focus on other things, get over these stupid arguments."

Alex rolled her eyes, sighing loudly, "And who are you to judge? Being all perfect won't win you any points."

* * *

 ** _Any Ideas you'd love to see included in the story? Alliance, potential love interests, plot twists? I'm trying to make things as un-ordinary as possible. :-)_**

 ** _And hope everyone is off to a great summer, too!_**


	17. Tying New Knots

**Training Day Two, Tribute Center**

Radiance slipped out of the apartment before Silk even stirred. The clock pointed right after the 5, Radiance had heard the large timepiece in the dining area chime. Copper was staying in the guest lounges; her train had come in two or three days earlier but there hadn't been a chance to talk. Doctor's appointments had eaten away at her time.

An avox was running the elevators, Radiance didn't realize how everything was so quite this early. Normally the elevators were busy, tributes, mentors, staff. Now it was just Radiance, and the silent Avox.

Radiance waved her id, admitting her to the guest quarters. "Room 257," Radiance muttered the words, finding the door easily. She pressed the button, hoping Copper had seen her late night message.

The lock clicked, the door opening. Radiance stepped inside the entrance hall, noticing dim lights in the living room. Copper reclined, the smell of coffee thick.  
"Good morning," Radiance whispered, "Sorry it's so early."

Copper yawned, "No problem, I have to be a Victor Mercy's at 8. I'll be there all day, skin graft repairs."

Radiance winced. The attack was nearly 4 months ago, but Copper was still getting treatment. Her face was pink, the newly grafted skin had just been unwrapped yesterday.

"Is it strange?" Radiance sat down on the edge of the couch.

"I think I need to stretch it out some," Copper grinned, "Sometimes feels like I'm pulling on it. But I'm looking forward to getting my arms unwrapped."

Radiance nodded. Copper sipped on the coffee, "But you didn't come here to talk about my new skin. You mentioned trouble last night?"

"Yeah," Radiance pulled at her sleeve cuffs, "It's the tributes, Silk injured Heath."

Copper sighed, setting down her cup, "Oh, Rad. That is a problem."

"I know," Her voice almost broke, and she crossed her arms, "I've been a failure, Copper. I can't even help my best friend."

"That's not your fault, Radiance." Copper leaned forward, "How Silk chooses to behave is her own responsibility. You've shown her the right way; you can't force her to listen."

Radiance rubbed at her eyes, "I know this is going to affect her time in the arena. Won't they punish her?"

Copper looked down, "I won't lie to you. The Gamemakers will not be pleased."

"It was such a stupid thing," Radiance groaned, "I just want to lock myself in my room till this is all done."

"Oh, Rad," Copper shook her head, "Don't give up so quick. Punishment won't kill Silk, she has as much a chance as anyone."

* * *

 **District 9 Compartments**

Alena rolled over, fingers touching her hair. It was weird having it so short. She remembered several of the tributes yesterday, one of them had even gasped. One of the girls had tried to apologize, asking her if the stylist had made a mistake.

That had made Alena a bit angry. She loved her hair cut, why couldn't they see how awesome it was? She heard the escort, coming out of Rust's room. Alena rolled her eyes, did the woman have to be so infernally loud?

She sat up, reaching for the glass on her nightstand. The door opened, the escort's purple wig coming into view.  
"Good morning," Her voice ended in a screech as Alena threw a full glass of water into her face. The escort's eyes widened as the liquid ran down her carefully painted face. Her fingers frantically touched her cheeks,  
"You evil slut! How dare you assault me!"

Alena smirked, the purple cheeks were now beginning to smudge with the green eyebrow paste. "Maybe if you learned some manners you wouldn't get assaulted."

"Manners," The escort gasped, "You impertinent whore," She dashed from the room, screaming.

Rust peaked his head around the corner, "Any you complain that I'm uncivilized."  
She glared at him, "That was perfectly civilized. If she hadn't fussed about my hair so much,"

Rust raised his hand, "I know. Just hope you don't get in trouble."

Trouble? Alena found that amusing. The escort was just annoying, she couldn't do anything about Alena's assault. It was hard to imagine anyone caring what the shrieking freak cried about.

* * *

 **Training Room**

Virginia crouched behind the bamboo plants, watching tributes enter the training room. Several rubbed at their eyes, yawning. Virginia was relieved she had slept well last night; she didn't need to worry about fighting off sleep during the day.

Several of the careers walked into the room together, Virginia felt her heart rate spike. Even looking at their menacing muscles was frightening. The boy from 4 was whispering to the girl from 2. He kept pointing at his own partner. Virginia knew the girl had been reaped, maybe they were going to kick her out of the alliance. Though Virginia thought, that was stupid, if she was a Career, she would be clamoring for as many allies as possible.

"Hiding behind the bushes isn't exactly training." Virginia jumped at the voice, neck twisting to see the speaker.

"Who are you," Virginia swallowed, noticing her dry mouth for the first time. She sat up, "What do you want?"

The girl shrugged, "I don't want anything. Just noticed you sitting here."

Virginia stood up, rubbing her hands clean on her jeans. The girl was fairly dark, really tan. Still couldn't place her name, "Are you from 11?"

A slight smile, "Yeah, we're practically neighbors."

"Hardly,' Virginia snorted, not sure whether to be friendly yet, "My district goes on forever."

"So does mine." She pulled a curl back from her face, "My name's Robin."

That's right, Virginia remembered her name fit her district well. She glanced at the careers, they seemed to be arguing, again

Robin followed her eyes, "At least they're not fussing at us. Though it's kind of pitiful."

"Pitiful?" Virginia couldn't quite see that word matching the dreaded careers.

"They're killing each other before they ever step into the arena." Robin glanced at Virginia, "Didn't you hear what happened to the guy from One?"

A slight shake of the head, as Robin continued, "His district partner got mad at him and burst his ear drum, now he's deaf on one side."

Virginia blinked, "That's awful. Is he ok?"

Robin nodded, "Going to stay deaf, it's an expensive operation." She smiled, "But at least our chances in the games are higher now."

Virginia couldn't disagree. She pulled on her ear, thinking about how fractured a team they were, "I always thought the careers were unbeatable. They always seem so put together, but now," her voice trailed, and she shrugged.

Robin nodded, "I think you're right. These guys are really lousy. Any of us might be able to take them down." She looked at Virginia, "But we'll have to do it together."

Virginia pursed her lips, "I see where you're going. But I need time to think about it."

"Of course," Robin smiled, her brown eyes lighting up, "Not even sure who might be interested."

* * *

Sadira stepped away from the daggers, that was enough practice. It had been fine, until Robin came over. She kept whispering to her about creating an alliance. Between every throw, pointing out the benefits of an alliance.

At first, Sadira had been kind of flattered. Robin was nice, but the memories from Reaping Day rushed back. Sadira knew her reaping was a punishment, if she made allies they would be punished too. She had to tell Robin no.  
Tears threatened as Sadira thought about it, she brushed at her eyes angrily. Robin turned from the rack of daggers, "Are you walking off?" Her voice showed her surprise.

Sadira swallowed, "I need to look at the traps." She took another step, but Robin followed.

"I think we have a really good chance." Robin's voice was feverishly excited, "Just think about it, I know you're young but I've seen how determined you are."

Sadira stopped, turning to face the taller girl, "You don't want me in your alliance." She exhaled the words, syllables tumbling over each other.

Robin blinked, "What? Of course we do, there's strength in numbers."

Why couldn't she get it? Sadira took another breath, but took a step forward. "Robin, listen. I have a reason; I just can't tell you why. If I join your alliance, the Gamemakers will kill all of us."

Robin opened her mouth, then shut it. Her eyes narrowed, studying Sadira. She bent forward, whispering, "Are you saying the reaping was intentional? Why do they want to kill you?'

Sadira tipped her chin up, back straightening. "I hope you find enough people for your alliance."

* * *

The two girls were gone, off talking or something. The others were messing around with the swords, not really paying attention to her.  
Blair picked up the small dagger, balancing the blade. She took a breath, aiming at the target. She threw, exhaling when the blade hit the target in the leg.

"Not too bad," Blair turned, glancing at the speaker. His hazel eyes seemed to be laughing, Blair felt her cheeks reddening. She picked up another dagger, hoping he would leave soon. "I never really worked at this back home."

"Admitting to training," He took a step closer, "You people make me sick." He picked up a dagger.

Blair's fists clenched around the dagger, "I never trained and I didn't volunteer."

He cut her a glance, "Oh, that's right. You were reaped." He smiled cockily, "You're still better off than most of the people in here. Better fed, spoiled, in love with the Capitol."

She was now shaking, "How am I any better than you? We're all in these Games."

He grinned, "Not really better than me. But I know the truth."

The truth? Blair glared at him and he kept grinning. She jumped at Bjorn's voice, "Talking to one of our actual volunteers, baby Blair."

She turned towards him, noticing his smirk. She briefly wondered if he ever did anything but smirk. "Not exactly talking, Bjorn."

He shrugged, stepping closer. "I forget your name, mine's Bjorn."

"Roran." He looked over Bjorn, "Going to practice with these," He held up a dagger.

"Nah," Bjorn grinned, "The spears more my thing. Just babysitting."

Blair snorted, "I don't need you to watch me."

"Yeah?" He cocked an eyebrow, "If it's just you out here, the rest of the tributes will realize how lousy you are. Then they'll think they can bring down our alliance."

"It's not me who's lousy, it's your stupid attitude." Blair hissed back.

His eyes narrowed, voice tone lowering, "Don't say that to me."

"And why not?" She pointed the dagger at his face, "You're too much of a chauvinistic pig to see my skills."

He grabbed her wrist, speaking through his teeth, "You may not have noticed, but Heath doesn't have much say anymore. Alex and I are going to kill you."

"Not if I'm not in your stupid alliance," She pulled her wrist away, "Instead, I'll kill all of you guys."

His face reddened for the first time, "You're not getting away with this. You threatened, you're out."  
"Fine," She shrugged, "I don't need you guys, anyway."

Bjorn stormed off, though Blair was sure he was relieved she was out. She took a shaky breath. At least she didn't have to worry about them killing her in her sleep.

"You really want to go ally less?"

She'd forgotten Roran was still there. "Not really. But they make stupid, dangerous allies."

Roran nodded, "Maybe, we can work together."

She raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden friendliness, "I thought you were better than me."

"Yeah, well." He chuckled, "You broke up with them. So you're pretty cool now."

* * *

Lucina touched Maxwell's arm, scowling as he flinched. He pushed her hand away, turning his shoulder into her face. She paused, but spoke anyway, "Aren't you tired of this? It's not like you're getting better."

He grunted, pulling back on the bow, "I'll get better."

Lucina rolled her eyes, snorting as he let the string go. The arrow bounced against the foot of the target, the trainer began another monologue. Hold the arrow this way, nock it like this, blah, blah, blah. It wasn't like her advice was helping Max get any better. If anything, he was worse.

"I'm going to go walk around," Maxwell didn't even glance her way as she strode off.  
She had tried out daggers yesterday, those were fun. Easy to imagine driving one into Maxwell's heart.

That wispy girl was over there now; Lucina knew she was a loner. Her long blonde hair was braided back, showing how thin back was. The training uniform looked big on her.

Lucina walked up behind her, "Think there'll be enough daggers for everyone?"  
The girl sent her a short look and Lucina continued, "I've seen everyone over here today. Some of the careers, that outer district volunteer. Kind of weird, right?"

The girl shrugged, "I shouldn't be here. I'm no good at these." She set the dagger down before beginning to walk away.

Lucina scowled, "You can't just do that."  
"Why not?" The girl tipped her head slightly.

"I would just kill you in the arena. You should stay and try to make allies now."

The girl smiled, her blue eyes glassy, "You don't know me. I don't make friends."

"It's not friendship, just helping each other out."

She shook her head, "Go back to your boyfriend. I don't need your help."

Lucina crossed her arms, "You're skinny and awful at everything. You really think you can survive without help?"

The girl blinked slowly, "I didn't say I don't need help. Just not your help."

"Yeah, I see." Lucina rolled her eyes, "What's your name?"

The girl shrugged and continued to walk away. What a weirdo, Lucina thought to herself. She began to walk back towards Max, when another tribute stopped her. "That's my district partner, Riley."

Lucina nodded, glancing at the taller boy, "You're Demetri, right?"

"The very same," He ran a hand through his black, spiky hair. "She's a creep."

"I kind of gathered that." Lucina smiled, "Didn't want to talk about allies."

"Nah, she's never had many friends." Demetri glanced at Riley. "One of my friends dated her on a dare. When he finally told her, she just snapped. Need been the same since."

Lucina looked at him again to make sure he was serious, "She snapped?"

"Yeah," He nodded emphatically, "Almost killed him, Walls had no idea what hit him."

She wrinkled her nose, "That's kind of disgusting. I mean, I would have been mad. But not that insane."

He grinned, "At least she's never boring." The two laughed over this, and then Demetri pointed towards Maxwell, who was still at the archery station.

"So how long have you two been together?"

Her eyes narrowed, laughter dying in her throat, "We're not really together." The words came out clipped, more harshly than she intended.

"Seriously?" Demetri stared at her, "He's like joined at your hip half the time."

"I know," She rolled her eyes, endeavoring to sound more light-hearted, "But he wants to kill me. Force me close just long enough to get rid of me."

Demetri chewed his lip, "That's disgusting." He glanced at Maxwell again, "You have a plan." Lucina wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.

She looked down, "I'm trying to think of something." Her chin trembled, "But he's so cruel and I just don't know."

He touched her shoulder, "Don't worry, Lu. We'll think of something."

She sniffed, amused that he was already calling her a nickname. "Really?"

He nodded, "You better get back over there before he gets suspicious. I'll talk to you more tomorrow."

Her fingers waved slightly as he walked away. At least he was charming, and willing to work with her. She practically skipped over to Maxwell, who didn't glance her way. "Learn any better way to shoot that thing?"

He grunted, "If they have a crossbow in the arena, bet I would do better than with this stupid recurve."

She held back a snort, saying as sweetly as she could, "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

* * *

 _ **Go ahead and kill me for taking so long, but this summer has been so intense! I ended up in the hospital, working too much, and struggling with balancing all of my writing.**_

 _ **BTW, if you are interested in reading my completely original story, PM me. I have it on Google Docs right now, and can share it via email. It kind of is mind consuming, I'm just at 30,000 words. But this semester, I'm going to try and update this every two weeks.**_

 _ **Love to hear any thoughts on the alliances that are forming :-)**_

 _ **Hope everyone's summer was awesome, kudos for reading this long author's note, and thanks for sticking with my procrastination!**_


	18. Can I Try Again?

**Day Three Training**

Felix couldn't believe his bad luck. He had studied several career alliances, looking for the secret ingredients that led to a victory. Perseverance, trust, diligence. To survive, the alliance had to work together.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize this team didn't have any of that. He had barely stepped into the training center and the team had already dispersed. Bjorn had scared off Blair, yesterday Alex and Bjorn had celebrated ousting Blair from the team by hacking a dozen different mummies apart.  
Those two were psychotic. He glanced their direction, the trainer was showing them how to sharpen a blade. Bjorn looked particularly delighted. while Alex could be classified as bored.

And Heath was angry, eager to kill Silk for deafening him. Every time Felix glanced over at the District 1 tribute, he was glaring at Silk. She just tossed her hair, completely ignoring him. Those two would be a handful in the arena, Felix wondered which one would kill the other during the bloodbath.

No one was listening to Felix, none of them were listening to their mentors, and not a one of them cared about each other.

It was enough to make Felix wish he hadn't volunteered. He couldn't win this thing without a working alliance. If he ditched them, he knew they would hunt him down. Even his district would hate him, after all they didn't have a clue what happened over training. His friends would be shocked, parents depressingly disappointed, and the rest of the district would scorn his stubborn independence. You stayed together in District Two or the pack abandoned you. There was no other choice.

Maybe he could lay low, let them kill each other off. But Felix knew they might just all kill him, then turn on each other. His mind calculated the risk, but he knew his ideas were pretty hopeless.

He casually twirled a sword, wondering if this whole endeavor was a foolish mistake.

* * *

Ruby smiled at Peltier, encouraging him to try the knot again. It was the fourth time, but practice didn't hurt. After all, he needed all the tools he could learn to use for tomorrow. Skinny, mute, the most non-threatening kid Ruby had ever seen; it was going to be hard to impress the Gamemakers.

She closed her eyes as the girl from Two laughed behind her, "I think we already know who's not lasting long this year. Don't they look just so adorably vulnerable?"

Her voice faded away as Alex walked on past, laughing with the show-off from Four. Ruby thought they suited each other; Alex was viciously cruel and Bjorn was a piggish chauvinist.

But Ruby knew Alex was a serious threat, she was still angry over Ruby's comments the night of the tribute parade. The last three days of training, even though Ruby had steered clear, Alex had trailed her, constantly threatening to torture her. And eventually kill her. Bjorn was now hinting he would help out, if Alex let him have his fair share when they tortured Ruby.

She sighed, as she knelt beside Peltier, "Look buddy," her voice barely reached a whisper, "I've been thinking, it may be best if we split up during the bloodbath."

His eyes widened, as he shook his head violently. "I know, but I want you to live." She swallowed, "Alex wants to kill me, I'm a walking time bomb."

She squeezed his hand, "You just run, get out of there. If I get past Alex, I'll catch up with you."

His teeth started to chatter, his cheeks reddening. He pushed into her arms, shoulders shaking. She patted his back, "I'm so sorry, Peltier. It's my fault, but she's not after you." She pulled him back, looking into his reddened eyes, "Just get out of the bloodbath, you know how to make a shelter."

Ruby paused, afraid of giving him false hope. Alex despised her, she doubted she could evade the bloodthirsty maniac, "If I make it, I will find you."

* * *

They weren't planning on running into each other. But here they were, staring at the lists of edible plants. Nylon and Tricolette were joking, laughing over the scientific names the trainer kept mentioning.

Josu and Rust stood next to each other, competing to see who could guess the most correctly. Then the trainer reprogramed the computer, "Now all four of you can compete against each other." She smiled, "It's like an actual game, though I don't have any prizes to give the winner."

"Thanks," Tricolette grinned, "This is fun."

They played a round, Josu getting the most plants right. The trainer restarted the program, and Nylon narrowly defeated Josu. Third round, Josu won again.  
"Man, you're good." Nylon commented, "I keep getting all the roots mixed up. Guess I should avoid roots in the arena."

"Even the goods one are disgusting," Rust commented. "I've had to eat a few back home; even in soups they're just gross."

"You're from Nine, right?" Tricolette asked, after he nodded, she turned to Josu. "And you're from Five?"

Josu grinned, "Yep, and you two are from the thread place."

Tricolette rolled her eyes, while Nylon grinned, "Exactly. Are you two allies?"  
Josu and Rust glanced at each other, before Rust spoke, "Not really, we've just run into each other a lot the last couple of days."

Josu raised an eyebrow, frustrated at the way Rust answered, "Not really? You straight up told me we couldn't be allies." He crossed his arms, "I haven't intentionally been running into you either."

"Sorry," Rust's ears reddened, before he blurted out, "I was rude. And I would make a terrible ally." He had been rude, and every time he saw Josu he regretted brushing him off like he did. The kid didn't know his weird past or straight-up-nuts family. It didn't help that he kept seeing Josu everywhere.

"Why?" Tricolette questioned, "You're not a bloodthirsty freak, I mean, you just want to get home like the rest of us, right?"

His mouth felt dry, and he ran a hand through his thick hair, "Sorry, I just, I've never had friends. I'll mess up stuff, and hurt you guys."

"That's a lousy reason," Nylon commented dryly. "If you're planning on dying, at least go down with some friends."

Josu laughed, before straightening. They all looked at him strangely, "Sorry, I thought he was joking."

"It's fine," Nylon shrugged. "Tri and I are allies. Our district, we like to stick together."  
Tri spoke, "Josu, if you want an ally, I mean we're not the best, but at least we can work together."

"And you'll keep me from poisoning myself," Nylon retorted lightly, "We'd love to camp out with you in the arena."

Josu's face lit up, "That's awesome. Yeah, I'll be your ally."

Tri glanced at Rust, noting that he was fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. She touched his arm, "You really can't mean to work alone. We'd love to be your friend."

"Yeah," he stumbled, "I'll let you guys down." Was this really how friendship worked?

"Don't be a such a downer," Nylon chuckled, slapping Rust on the back, "No one expects you to be perfect."

Josu chewed his lip. He hated that Rust had rebuffed him on the first day, but if Nylon and Tri were going to be nice, he would try to as well. "Look, none of us are perfect. We don't care what you were like back home, who your parents were and all that. We just want to survive this together."

Rust felt his throat burn, his eyes blinking, "You guys are nice."  
"You'll be our ally?" Tri grinned hopefully.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I can help out."

* * *

Oliver touched his fingers together, wondering if he should ask for some cream. He had been climbing all morning, making his way up the intensely tangled set of ropes. At first, he wasn't sure of his footing, and had been pretty nervous.

He'd slipped a couple of times, and several tributes had laughed at him. That was frustrating, but he tried again. It wasn't that hard once you got used to it. He'd hung up in the rafters, before coming down at the end of the day. His palms ached from his long grip on the ropes, but it was worth it.  
During lunch, Sadira had walked around, searching for him. She wanted him to eat; every day she hunted him down, begging him to come eat something.

Today, she couldn't find him. Oliver grinned as she became more and more worried. She finally returned to the table, but Oliver stopped watching her.

The bells rang, indicating the training center was closing. Oliver slipped down the ropes, watching his footing. It wasn't until he landed that he realized his hands were chapped, the skin raw. If he asked for cream, the mentor would fuss. He just wanted to be left alone. He stuffed his hands in his pocket as he boarded the elevator, Sadira just a few feet behind him.

"Where have you been?" Her voice was sharp, "I looked all over for you! Are you being weird like this on purpose?"

He didn't answer, simply staring at the floor. The elevator came to a gentle halt, opening unto their suite.

"Howdy, kids." Snider nodded at them, "Ready to be done with training?"  
Sadira sighed, "If Oliver ever started. But yeah, I'm done."

Snider smiled sympathetically, "I know it's been tough. Just take tonight off, we'll discuss the Gamemakers sessions tomorrow."

Raquel seemed to appear from nowhere, "Oliver, I'm not sure we have much to talk about."

Oliver shrugged, hoping Raquel would let him go. The mentor spoke some more, "I hope you have a plan for tomorrow, cause I straight up have no ideas."

"Thath's thine." His version of that's fine was meant to brush her off, to let him escape.

Instead it riled her, "You mean it's fine? To just give up and die." She snorted, "Literally the worst decision ever."

"Raquel," Snider warned, as Sadira slipped away. The girl didn't want to get caught in-between Oliver and the mean mentor. Sadira was too frustrated with the boy to stand up for him anyway.

Raquel sent Snider a sharp glance, "You're too easy on him, Sni. And you're the one with at least a decent tribute." She faced Oliver, "I tried helping you. Against my better judgment, I wasted time talking to sponsors and thinking of ways for you to live."

Oliver sucked in a breath, hurt but not surprised by her words. She continued, "You've thrown it all away. You've not eaten a decent meal, trained or given me even a scrap to work with." Her eyes threw darts, "I should have just gotten drunk and passed out the last three days." She turned on her heeled boots, stomping away.

Oliver trembled, disturbed by the mentor's anger. Snider stepped forward, placing a hand on the boy's thin shoulder, "I'm sorry, kid."

He wrapped his arms across his chest, "Ith's ok." Snider didn't look convinced, "I'mth ready to thie."

Snider didn't look convinced, instead Oliver was surprised to see pain reflected back at him, "You deserved better. I know your life sucked, I wish it didn't have to end this way for you."

Oliver shrugged, as Snider glanced down. "What happened to your hands," he pulled one towards him. "They're going to get infected."

Oliver winced, as Snider probed, "Blisters are nasty stuff. We better get some cream on this. Want to tell me how this happened?" He didn't need to add that Sadira kept them al informed on his daily activities. Of course, Snider would wonder what he had done without Sadira noticing.

But Oliver didn't want to talk about it, he just shook his head. "No problem. But try to be a bit more careful in the future."

* * *

 **Gamemaker lounge**

Rows of numbers, faces, and the swirls of opinions were enough to make you nauseous. Gemini balanced her clipboard, intently tapping out data, measuring probabilities.

The Head Gamemaker was trying to make sense of Gemini's plan, but as he explained it for the third time to the room, the instructions were still muddled. Finally, Lafayette waved his arms in frustration, "Please, Gemini, make these people understand." He stepped back, collapsing unto a soft seat.

Gemini controlled a sigh, barely concealing her disdain. "It's fairly simple." She let the clipboard rest at her side, forcing her fellow Gamemakers to make eye contact, "Instead of walking into the private sessions with no clear idea of the tributes current ranking, we collaborate on our current expectations."

"Current expectations?" A voice whimpered. Gemini wasn't surprised it was Claudius, the man was currently trying to see how much of his strawberry he could cover in chocolate.

"The score you except the tributes to earn after 3 days of observations during training." Gemini smiled, though the cheerful façade didn't reach her scornful eyes, "We are all required to register 5 hours of daily training observations for a reason, Claudius. I put the idea to Lafayette that we put that time to good use."

Lafayette nodded eagerly, tapping his rings together. "It's a brilliant idea."

Gemini continued, "During the sessions, we will upgrade the tributes scores based on how they met or exceeded our expectations. Take Heath of District One. Some of you already have a fairly favorable impression, and you may submit an expected score of 9."

She held up the tablet, "Tonight, submit your score. The computers will calculate the averages, so by tomorrow we all will have the same general expectations."

Nods around the room as her fellow Gamemakers understood, "If Heath outperforms our expectations, then we increase his score. If he performs as anticipated, we leave the score be. Underperformance means his score will be docked."

Lafayette clapped his hands together, "Isn't it brilliant. Save us so much time tomorrow, creating scores. Now we just dock and add as needed!"

Gemini smiled, "Thank you, sir. In the essence of saving time, you are required to submit your scores by midnight." She pointed at her tablet, "All of you have access to the program, use your current ID and password."

"Ah, yes." Lafayette ran a hand through his hair, "I think if you don't, I will have to ask the President to consider removal from your position."

The room murmured slightly, as several Gamemakers reached for their devices. One raised a hand.

"Yes, Sylvania." Gemini managed a patient smile.

"What if your expectations are hardly more than a zero. Like that cripple from 12? I can't see him earning more than a 1."

"Good question," Gemini cleared her throat, "Always submit your expectations, do not doctor them. Our system only works with honest evaluations."

She met several pairs of eyes, relieved they seemed to understand the point, "You may realize this system will likely benefit the lower, generally underperforming districts. Our expectations may be low enough, that a good private showing may increase their score dramatically. Not enough to get a high score, but to go from say, a 2 to a 4."

She smiled, "I think in the end this will benefit tribute confidence. And the games work better when the tributes are confident."

Gemini didn't state the opposite effect; it wasn't exactly in her best interest. The Careers, naturally already had high expectations, but if they were boring in their private sessions, their scores could be lowered. For years, Gemini had witnessed the Careers getting high scores, simply because of their district. It was time to even out the chances.

* * *

 **Ok, I loved writing this update. I've gotten a list of the alliances, maybe I'll post that in the next chapter. So many ideas, so little time.**

 **Now it's your turn! What is your reaction to the forming alliances, and Gemini's ideas for the private sessions?**


	19. Restless Morning

**Am I still alive? Um, yes. And my conscience won't let me live without finishing this story. :)**

 **Private Sessions**

* * *

"Even without his hearing, Heath's going to be a threat." One of the Gamemakers spoke, tapping his tablet. "Just look at him with that sword."  
Several of the Gamemakers glanced up, enjoying watching Heath skewer the manikin. Gemini rolled her eyes, "It's hardly more than you could expect. He's not that remarkable." She pointed to her chart, "Heath's expectations hover right at an 8. Is he doing better than that?"

Heath was now sparring. He jumped, parried, and swung at the trainer. One of the Gamemakers noted, "He's good at attacking, but leaves himself wide open. Pretty vulnerable."

"He doesn't exceed my expectations." Another Gamemaker commented. "Does that give him a lower score?"

Gemini's lips pursed together, noting the tributes fury. He snarled at the trainer, his knuckles white as they gripped his weapon. His anger was unsettling, and Gemini hadn't felt an instant dislike towards a tribute in years. She bit on the thought, before speaking to her fellow Gamemakers, "We should reduce his score, perhaps a 7."

The Gamemakers didn't argue, and Gemini hit the buzzer. Heath pulled up short, his forehead glistening with sweat. The trainer touched the boy's back, probably intending to encourage the kid. Gemini rolled her eyes as Heath stiffened, sneering at the trainer to leave him alone. She pressed her fingers to her temple, rubbing at the building headache.

* * *

Silk stepped through the training doors, eyes sweeping up the Gamemakers booth. She grinned, cracking her knuckles. A slight bow, "Silk Vermillion, District One."

As she straightened, Silk tossed her hair. She strode to the rows of knives, picking up several. She slipped one up her sleeve, two blades in each hand.

The targets began moving, and Silk attacked. She jumped in between the targets after running out of her blades, pulling them from the canvas to throw. After a few minutes, it was a bit boring.  
Silk stepped away from the daggers, glancing up at the Gamemakers. "I know Apple Seeds are poisonous, but I need a ton of apples to kill anyone. And tomato and potato leaves are deadly. So I can kill anyone I want."

Silk folded her arms as she finished, waiting. One of the Gamemakers glanced at Gemini, before speaking. "If that's all, you're dismissed."

Gemini shrugged, watching Silk swagger away. "If I had a gold piece for every knife I've seen these upper district girls hurl, I'd be richer than Medes."

One of her coworker's brow furrowed, "Medes? That's my cousin's name. He's not very rich."

She suppressed a snort, "The name comes from ancient mythology."  
"Really?" The man leaned forward, fingering an olive, "What's the story?"

The boy from District Two was walking in, "If you didn't pay attention in school, hire a tutor." Gemini snapped, standing to get a glass of water.

* * *

The last tribute from 3 was stepping from the waiting room when Bjorn stood up from the benches, knowing his turn was next. He stepped next to Blair, her focus on her nails. He leaned over, voice dropping to a whisper, "I think the guy from Six is baiting his partner."

Her chin jerked up, voice a trifle loud, "What?"

His brows furrowed, his words raised "That's why you're not in the pack. You can't take a hint," he whispered again, "I was whispering about the guy from Six."

She glanced at the tribute, remembering his name – Maxwell. His arm was draped around his district partner, lips hovering at her ear. "They're a couple."

Bjorn grinned, "I think not." He tapped Blair's knees. "He's using her; he'll kill her the moment the gong sounds."

Blair blinked, shaking her head, "And you think that's funny?"

He shrugged, "It's entertainment, Blair baby." He pinched her nose, "He knows how to make it."

 _Bjorn Timmons, District Four._ The computerized voice rang above their heads. Bjorn stood, cracking his knuckles. "Going to go get a winning score," He winked at Blair, "Do try to follow my example."

Blair rolled her eyes as he stepped from the room. She mimicked his swanky voice, her voice laced with frustration. Her cheeks reddened as the tributes around her stared. "Sorry," Blair shrugged, "Just a little bit on edge." Several looked down, though a few still stared at her. Blair rubbed her face, eyes darting around the room. She met Roran's eyes. He inclined his head slightly, and she nodded, hoping he would come over.

Roran left his partner, though she had been sitting with her back to him. Blair figured the girl disliked him, probably because he volunteered. He slid onto the seat next to her, "What did he say?"

She leaned against him slightly, their shoulders brushing, "It was just normal, annoying Bjorn stuff." She rolled her eyes, "They should go ahead and crown him victor so the rest of us can live in peace."  
Roran grinned, his hazel eyes sparkling, "Let's give him a run for his money."

Her fingers knit together, her teeth grinding. "I'm not going to do that great."

Roran placed his hand on top of hers, "I'll watch out for you." He squeezed, "Do your best, I mean, we all got to start somewhere."

"You volunteered," she looked into his eyes, "Don't you plan on winning?"

He pulled back, taking in a breath. _Blair Maddison, District Four,_ the computerized voice interrupted. "Shoot," Roran breathed, "I'll tell you later."

Blair picked herself up, rubbing her sweaty palms on her pants. "See you, Roran."

* * *

Tricolette fidgeted with the bracelet hanging limply on her wrist. Next to her, Nylon twisted a rope strand in his fingers, elbows resting on his knees. "What are you doing, again?"  
"Not much," he blew air through his teeth, "Some traps, I'll run through the obstacle course." He glanced at her, "Do the best I can."

She laid a hand on his shoulder, "You're going to do great."

"Thanks." He straightened. Josu had gone into his session a few minutes before, leaving an empty seat beside them. Robin, from Eleven, filled his seat. The three sat next to each other, the room rearranging as tributes left.

Maxwell, from Six, left as his name was called. Immediately Demetri took his seat next to Lucina. His partner, Riley, glared at him. Riley marched over to Lucina, "You're a cheat. I should tell Max you're shagging behind his back."

Lucina's face reddened, "Get out of my business." Demetri shifted uncomfortably, while most of the room tried to ignore the quarrel.

Riley snorted, "My partner is my business. You're shaming my district," She sent a glare at Demetri. "You shouldn't hang out with a slut."

Demetri's ears reddened, "Riley, get a grip. It's not my fault you can't find a boyfriend."

Riley snorted, as Lucina's name was called. She barely budged, blocking Lucina's path to the door. Lucina shoved past her, several tributes chuckling.

"Our turn's coming up," Nylon commented. He pulled viciously at the string, glancing at Robin. "I guess it Tri, You, Josu and me."

"Virginia may join us." Robin inclined her head at Virginia, sitting stiffly next to her district partner. Levi would occasionally talk, but for most of the morning, the two District 10 tributes sat quietly.

Nylon shrugged, "I don't care, as long as everybody knows what to do."

"Don't run into the cornucopia." Tricolette mentioned.

"Find water," Robin continued.

"And avoid the careers." Nylon finished.

* * *

Sadira tried to sleep. When her back protested the hard bench, she reminded herself that the arena would probably be harder. She pressed her cheeks against her hands, eyes pressed shut against the shuffling tributes. She was the last one and she wouldn't sit pouting till it was her turn.

But trying to ignore the other tributes couldn't dispel the thoughts of home. If she was home, she might be playing soccer with her brothers. In the evenings, they would gather around to watch the scores posted. Her brothers would cheer the lower districts who reached high scores, and if they thought Sadira wasn't listening, they might curse the Careers.

Sadira knew her father didn't watch the games. He would step into the room, ask about their district tributes and leave. He never placed bets or spoke of the games. When Sadira told him of their district's tribute deaths, her father would place a candle in the window. He lit the candles for the tributes each year. Sometimes it was nearly the end of the games before the candle would be lit. Sometimes, one candle would burn completely out before the other candle was lit. Sometimes they were both lit before the bloodbath was truly done.

Sadira pulled her legs closer to her chest, face turned towards the wall. District Seven's male tribute had just been called.

Her father couldn't light a candle for her. She remembered her sister's pale face, the only member of her family to say goodbye after the reaping. Her brothers had disappeared; they weren't in the crowd during the reaping. If her father was in trouble, Sadira shuddered to think what might have happened to her three cheerful, strong brothers.

But her sister was married to the Head Peacekeeper. Liliana was applying for Capitol citizenship; she'd even been married in the Capitol. Liliana was afraid, but she still came to see Sadira. While the Peacekeepers didn't let any other visitor through, Liliana was allowed two minutes.

"I don't know what kind of mess Dad's made," She pressed Sadira close, kissing her baby sister's forehead, "But I'll try to sort it out with Clive."  
Clive, the Head Peacekeeper. Her brother-in-law. She didn't tell Liliana that Clive had waited outside the house for the men to drag his father-in-law out. He had picked Sadira up by the arm, pulling her back from the spectators. His words came in a rush, "Where are your brothers?"  
"They're helping Uncle Thorn." Sadira was crying, her knees scraped from the street. Clive's features were chiseled, his eyes stony, "Your Uncle Thorn, the mayor," His voice had dripped with anger, "Is gone, and so are your brothers." He shoved her towards the house, "If you know anything, Sadira," his voice was calm, "I'd advise you to tell me. I'm the only one who can protect you now."

But he hadn't protected her. Sadira blinked back a tear, her thoughts interrupted as the tribute from District 10 was called.

Clive had done nothing to stop her reaping. Maybe Clive had made even certain her name was in the reaping bowl.

Her mentors thought she didn't know, but Sadira had seen the brief glimpse on the screen last night. The escort was watching, Snider sitting stone-faced on the couch. Neither of them heard Sadira step into the room, looking for a bite to eat.

She'd stood behind the couch, hand stifling her breathing. Her father, barely able to stand. He was herded into the town square, a Peacekeeper shoving him with the butt of a rifle. The square was different, the shops shuttered, a crowd roped around the edge.

Sadira wanted to turn away. Wanted to ignore and pretend she didn't know. The capitol TV anchor commented, "This is the ringleader of treasonous activities in District 12. He is the third prisoner to be executed in District 12 today."

Third prisoner. Sadira closed her eyes. Were her brothers caught? What was her Uncle doing? Was her whole family dead?  
Liliana. She glanced at the screen, looking for her sister. Her eyes fixed on a familiar face. Clive. He stood next to the gallows, placing the rope around her father's neck.

Clive called her father _dad_. He spent every Friday night eating dinner with their family. Her sister, she searched the crowd, then jumped back quickly as Snider turned off the screen. His voice was soft, "We don't need to watch the rest. That man is Sadira's father. Don't tell her."

Sadira jolted as Oliver's name was called. It was almost her turn. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up in the empty room.

"Papa's dead." She whispered the words. What did he die for? Was Liliana alive? Was mama safe? The questions swirled, unending. She couldn't fall asleep, not without seeing Clive's face. His stone gray eyes ignoring her fear as he pulled her into the Hall of Justice.

 _"Sadira Ness, District 12._ " The voice beckoned. She stood woodenly, blinking back images of her father.

* * *

 ** _I'm super sorry it's taken me so incredibly long to come back to this story. That was really bad of me, and I struggled with feeling too guilty for letting you guys down to write anymore. I love fanfiction, but I was stretched thin on writing for a while._**  
 ** _Anyway, do you like Ed Sheeran? I'm alternating listening to his new CD and Celtic music writing this chapter._**

 ** _Also, I love Sadira and her story. :)_**


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